After careful consideration – having spent the last 36 hours nursing a severely wounded cat and desperately avoiding any further instances of uncertain death – I believe that my husband may just be, you know, right, maybe.
Can it be?
Thinking on it some more – having spent more quality time traveling
in our minivan, than not – I think I may be driving my children CRAZY!
I mean, seriously, my kids aren’t all that small, anymore and
are tall enough to ride the bigger rides, even – well, except perhaps
Mini-me – but, I say unto you…all ye moms, dads and parent bloggers
to be…it doesn’t seem to be getting any easier.
[smiles broadly]
That’s when bitching about your spousal unit comes in real handy!
"Where’s the car seat?"
My parents haven’t been feeling well, lately and the kids and I
wanted to visit with them, before leaving for Cape May for a few days
of…well, I don’t know…I’ve learned not to plan ANYTHING…anymore!
"Um…it’s in my car."
Silence.
"Hello?"
Although, I have to admit, the next part of our conversation is a
bit fuzzy – my husband claims I hung up on him – understand that I had
less than 24 hours to visit with my parents, pick up everything my
11-year-old needed for field hockey, food shop, come home, clean the
house, wash the clothes, prepare for a sleepover (because, I am a
DORK!) and pack.
"Well, that just totally screws up my day!"
This is the part where he claims I slammed the receiver, but I do seem to remember my replying.
"THIS SUCKS!!!"
The phone rang and I asked Thing Two to answer it.
"He’s probably going to make some stupid suggestion that’s going to make me mad!"
Yes, I believe that we should always be honest with our children.
"He STILL wants to talk to you."
Shit.
"Look, why don’t you just drive down here, on your way to your parents, and I’ll put it in your car?"
Uhhhhhh, okay.
"But, that’s against the law!"
Okay, but this was kind of a family emergency, sort of, and what I
really wanted to do was tell my 8-year-old son to STOP being such a boy
scout.
Not out loud, anyway.
"Chill out, sweetie…sometimes mommy’s and daddy’s
have to bend the rules, a little…besides, it’s not like I’m robbing a
bank."
Though, my husband does work for one.
"That’s right…remember Mini-me…today you ARE 80 lbs!"
Even though I did appreciate Thing-Two’s attempt at helping
the situation, I told her that there really wasn’t any reason we needed
to, you know, lie.
"That’s wight…wee-membah when we took-did the twain…when mommy told-did me to pwee-tend wike I was 4…’cause it’s cheaper than being 5!"
Considering the recent rash of bad luck…not to mention, ginormous vet bills…having to take Old Man back, again, this morning…because
we woke up and found that his stitches were torn open…EWWW…color me
crazy…but, I’m a little afraid of leaving all of this behind.
I think that perhaps Mini-me may just have to stay little…a little
longer…although, there aren’t really any rides in Cape May, to speak
of.
"Thank goodness Aunt C. and Uncle J. invited us, or else we’d have to lie about what we really did for summer vacation!"
Ah, well – at least, we ARE laughing…all the way to Daddy’s bank,
even – what lies beneath, is the plain truth, that it’s only been 11
days and we ALL feel a bit like we’re going a little mad, and need a
vacation, from our summer vacation, big time – when we can ALL start
feeling a lot less, you know, frah-gee-lee.
See you in about a week, everyone…
…peace-out!