Last Friday horrifically started to look a little something like this. No joke. Don't ask. I know.
The poor pup had an accident in the kennel Thursday night - yay! It was drying and she had to be gated in the mudroom - boo! She barked for an hour while makeup melted off of my face, trying to straighten fast-frizzing hair. I kept offering favorite chew toys. Don't bribe me, said her thought bubble. Her snugly bed was in there. She didn't care. She was a little mad at me, because well, she is my first-born and still has a little of that puppy separation anxiety. I've always said I should have taken a maternity leave with the sweet girl. Thank goodness we've been able to have her in our family for so long.
Lickety split, it was time to go. I had gotten up early, let the boys sleep late. It was 'donut' Friday. Or as Beetle Bug (he doesn't like that nick-name and sternly corrects me with his full title, all three names) calls it, Dundins DOHnuz. They get 2 chocolate munchkins each (wild and special treat for Big Kid, because this is not on his uschz all-natural menu) and sometimes I say screw it and get a donut too, trust me, last Friday, I could have had a dozen.
Sidebar: Hey - new guy at the drive-thru, please learn the difference between a chocolate cake iced and a chocolate glazed sour cream. Dozens of bug-eyed, wild-haired soccer moms are rolling up in your lane, counting on you, "Preston," or whatever your popular YouTube generation name is, to get the danged order right. Ahem. Thank goodness this place is not closer, because I'd #1 be getting donuts every morning and #2 I'd soon be asked not to return because of my attitude.
Back to the mudroom. Lieutenant Mommy started giving orders to the little soldiers. 'Dudes, look. Sophie is sad that she is not in her kennel and has to stay in the mudroom today. Hello, is everyone listening? PLEASE DO NOT OPEN THE DOOR, because she will run. Got it? What did mommy say?'
"I dot it, mommy!" says Beetle Bug.
'OK, great. Wait for me...'
Not, great and not OK at all, really.
Stepping forward, I held the dog back with my left leg. I reached my right hand out to open the door, held it with my right knee, in hopes of ushering the kids out quickly, while keeping the dog in. But to the boys, my 'OK' meant it was OK for them to open the door. The OK in my head meant that I was announcing the start of this process. We had a little miscommunication. Sophie took off like a bullet. Thank goodness it wasn't storming.
Mommy was thinking about peeling tires out of the summer day camp drive after drop-off and heading to the bar. Thank goodness they are not open yet.
Beetle Bug kept asking, 'Mommy, are you happy?' This kid's timing is impeccable. He was pacing from window to window looking for Sophie and saying, eek... 'G-Dang it.' I suggested that he say, 'fiddlesticks.'
"How about 'chicken feathers' like Pete on Mickey Mouse Club House?" I said. "Oh-tay, but I'm mad about it, mom." Thank goodness he didn't swear. Yet.
I grabbed the leash and did the quick sweep down the street and up again in full work clothes. Nothing. I guess she was serious about the mudroom.
All righty, then. To the car, everyone. Big Kid, a.k.a., 'big bwutha', asks if he can bring a mug of chocolate milk in the car. I advised him that I was leery, having had chocolate milk spilled, splashed and slowly dripped onto the back seat of my car so many times, but after making him triple-promise that he would-not-spill-it-no-way, I caved. 'Here's how to use the lid. See, click, click. Open-close. Got it?' "I'M NOT GOING TO SPILL IT, MOM, JEEZ!!!"
Onward ho, we jogged to the car. I was perspiring (you're really letting me down, Dove), fuming about Sophie's timing. Not impeccable. She really needs to work on that. Big Kid jumps in the car. The lid was not clicked. Especially not click-clicked. Chocolate TruMoo hit everything in the backseat. Blue blankey had collateral damage, (Beetle Bug was not pleased, in fact, I think he may have sworn, but whatever he said, he used the deep, serious voice and pinched his lips together, talking through his teeth - cutest ever) as did the hoodie to be worn by Big Kid to the field trip... tasty, daily dose of calcium and perfect aim. It does a body good. A backseat? Not so much.
Dabbing with the original magic eraser, a baby wipe, I soaked up as much milk as possible. Can't wait to smell this in about a week. The guy at the detail shop is making a killing off of us and our spilled milk. Thank goodness it wasn't dog doo.
But that didn't matter much, because on the next street over, there was Soph, doing her business in someone's front yard. [Neighbor-who-lives-at-the-end-of-the-street following me -inappropriately close- as I went 15 miles per hour, sorry for stopping so quickly to make a right. Um, the dog got out again. And, well, there she was. That was me driving.] She jumped in, scratching Bug's leg in the meantime and lounging out as if on a chaise, across Big Kid. I glanced in the rear view mirror. She met my glance as if to say, 'nice, mom, where are we going now?' I had to laugh. Thank goodness she was OK.
We dropped the dog back home successfully, then picked up some chocolate donut holes. While in line, we played 'who can make the best rewind noise'? Since mommy needed to rewind the morning and apologize for yelling and being so grouchy after Sophie got out, and it was not their fault and she was not mad at them and she was so proud of how calm and collected they stayed during that moment. Thank goodness I get to tell them before dropping them off for the day.
Bug was settled at daycare. As we are exiting the car at day camp, Big Kid says to me, "And, mom, when you get to work, could you maybe clean off this seat, because it's covered in dog hair." Hysterical. A dog hair and chocolate milk pesto, to be exact.
We ran into one of the day camp counselors on our way up the stairs and she pointed out that Big Kid did not have his camp shirt on. It was field trip day. Oh. Right. Should have guessed. I didn't.
I think she could tell from the look on my face that this was not impeccable timing. Before I could say anything, she offered to find an extra - she had a few in her office. "PERFECT!" I said. "Have a great day!" My mood had improved drastically by the time I reached the car. Thank goodness for kind people.
Thank goodness I took a few minutes to edit this post because the draft from Friday had a lot more curse words and exclamation points.
Happy Monday.
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