My 10 year old was on Spring Break last week so, as you might expect, from Monday to Wednesday he pretty much sat around unsupervised, playing video games. Then, on Wednesday night, it occurred to me that his teacher might ask him what he did while on vacation. I figured I’d better pack some excitement into his last two days. *This method has the effect of looking like an awesome parent while putting in only about 20% of the recommended effort.
So, on Thursday, I took Collin, his friends, & Ana to one of those trampoline places.
I’ll tell you what, for a relatively smart woman who still suffers the consequences of carrying a 10 lb 4oz baby, that was THEEE stupidest play-date I’ve ever arranged!
Luckily, because I was wearing black pants, my bladder humiliation was kept relatively in check. Plus I made friends with Ms. Terri, the bathroom attendant. Her birthday’s in May, we’re going out for drinks.
On Friday, our family went to The Baltimore National Aquarium…along with 30 billion other families who had the nerve to visit on the same day as us.
We learned lots of interesting facts. This one was on the back of the bathroom stall:
The kids agreed on their favorite sea creature:
and Ana successfully exited through the same rotating door that trapped her last year.
On Saturday, we attended an Easter egg hunt at our gym.
But we were so busy chit-chatting that we neglected to strategize with our child before game time. As a result:
Saturday night, we dyed Easter eggs.
Sunday was Easter and Ana’s 5th birthday!
I handed her a kid fork to eat her cake, and she handed it back to me saying, “I need a big fork, I’m five now!” Sounds a lot like how I expect my next birthday to go…”I need a BIG shot of tequila, I’m 42 now!”
But before our company came, I was leaving the grocery store when I received an urgent phone call from Brian:
Brian: I need your help! Where are you? What can I clean the hardwood floor with?
Me: I’ll be home in a few minutes. Just use soap & water.
Honestly guys, I didn’t have to ask, somehow I just knew. I even prepped the kids.
Me: Kids, when we get home, I want you to pause at the laundry room door, check to see where dad spilled my chicken marinade, and walk carefully around it. Now, it’s very important that you remain quiet, move quickly, and avoid all eye contact as he’ll be on the offense and looking for someone to blame. Do you understand me?
When we arrived home:
Marinade smell – CHECK
“If you were home earlier, I wouldn’t have had to pull the chicken out.” passing blame – CHECK
…but the one thing I didn’t expect…
“Buddy needs a bath. The bag poured on his head.”
As if missing a leg wasn’t bad enough, it’s three baths later and he still smells like Worcestershire Sauce. Neighborhood dogs want to eat him.
How was your weekend?
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