a morning
“Alright, buddy, go upstairs and get dressed. We need to get going.”
Ten minutes pass while I make sure that lunch and piano books are packed. I head upstairs and foolishly expect to see the baby in some advanced stage of dressing, at the very least wearing pants.
Instead, he is crouched on the floor in his pajamas, reading a book.
“What are you doing?!!?!” I hiss. “We need to GO!”
“I couldn’t find any pants.”
“Oh for Christ’s sake…”
I rustle some clean clothes together and toss them in his room, explaining again that we need to leave in just a few minutes. I start getting dressed myself and poke my head into his room because I sense something off. Something procrastinating. He’s wearing pants, but no shirt, and is playing with some magnets.
“Dude. Seriously. Come on.”
“Oh, FINE!” he sighs, as though going to school is some inconvenient favor I’ve just asked of him.
Downstairs, he has not put on his shoes like I told him to, but is looking for the gloves that he threw somewhere in the house when we got home last night.
I finally get him out the door and hustle him to the bus stop, explaining along the way that he has to go to school so there’s no point resisting and when he goofs off in the morning we risk missing the bus, which would screw up everyone’s day.
“Understand?” I ask/demand.
“Yessssss,” he moans.
We stand and wait for the bus. He breaks the silence by innocently asking me, “Can you take heavy blows to the head?”
In non-bludgeoning news, my dad’s birthday was on Sunday and we had him over for dinner and cake. He brought Champagne. He’s my favorite father.
He’s getting ready to blow out the candles in that picture. He’s not overly excited about or terrified by the cake that I made despite how it might look.
By the way, that cake is this Chocolate Overdose Cake, which is some Serious Business.
Brownie, mousse, cake, ganache. Ya heard?
I’ve had two mostly low-key weekends in a row, which means I’m due for another whirlwind. Tonight we’re trying to go see the new Harry Potter movie. Tomorrow morning, I’ll be hanging out with some other blog types at 77kids to check out their holiday displays and to learn more about their charity initiatives. At some point, I need to bake some cookies because later in the day, I’m going to hitch a ride with Allison to Michelle‘s house for a cookie swap. Then I will ponder who I am, doing all of these nice, wholesome things. Sunday, my mom and I are supposed to do some hardcore cleaning at my house. I may have to drink throughout that process.
November 22nd, 2010 at 3:07 am
Every morning. Three kids. Yeah. And people wonder why I’m regularly 20 minutes late to EVERYTHING now! And why it’s always a mad dash to the door, no matter what I do to prepare.
Kids are fun. Have you ever heard the Bill Cosby Himself skits on parenthood? If you haven’t, look ’em up and have a listen. Especially the one titled “brain damage”. You’ll laugh and cry at it.