One of THOSE Days

6:10am: Alarm clock woke me from restless sleep in which I spent the entire night searching a strange house for single-serving baking dishes. I don’t own these dishes, but I had this mental image of a box with dishes in it.

6:30am: My boys began wrestling on the couch next to me as I attempted to drink hot coffee and memorize Philippians 1:18-22.

6:40am: Little Boy commenced whine-crying every time I gave him an answer he didn’t like. This continued the entire day. Sure sign of poor night’s sleep.

7:00am: I finally instructed Big Boy to take Little Boy to the basement to play.

7:01am: Little Boy bounced back on couch next to me.

7:10am: I gave up on coffee and memorizing and started herding kids towards bedrooms to dress for school.

7:30am: Big Boy complained of a sore wrist. I suspected an attempt to get out of school and spend the day playing Wii. Obvious disappointment when I still sent him to his room to get dressed.

7:45am: Fruitless effort to get Little Boy to eat a decent meal.

8:15am: Boys and I headed to the bus stop. Little Boy headed to the mud puddle. (Bright side: the snow is actually MELTING!)

8:25am: I raced Little Boy and Little Girl into coats to make a quick run to grocery store for bread,  ham, and cereal. And a blood pressure reading — I’m being screened for a living organ donor program. (More on that later.)

8:45am: We finally arrived at the grocery store where Little Boy decided he MUST ride in the ginormous yellow race car cart. When I told him no, we don’t need that many groceries, the screaming began.

8:55am: A patron of the store who entered with me walked past us at the back of store. He commented, “Wow, he’s still screaming?!” Why yes, yes he is.

9:05am: Little Boy stopped screaming long enough to snatch, open, and consume half a Butterfinger while I  tried to pay at the self-check-out. I managed not to yell at him as I snatched the wrapper off the floor, scanned it, and paid (I NEVER buy candy unless it’s for something specific, like s’mores or trick-or-treat), grumbling the whole way. We made a quick getaway (at least, as quick as possible for two kids with short legs).

9:20am: Finally home. I sat down at the computer for my monthly bill-paying marathon.

9:30am: Little Boy emerged from Little Girl’s bedroom with a suspiciously-shiny face, rubbing suspiciously-shiny-and-sticky hands together. I detected a faint aroma of strawberry. Upon further investigation, I discovered that he had annointed himself with an entire tube of his sister’s LipSmackers strawberry lip gloss. She didn’t notice even though he did it right next to her (perhaps her smeller is malfunctioning?).

9:40am: After three sudsings and scrubbings, Little Boy was less shiny but still smelled of strawberry.

9:50am: We piled back into the van to head to the credit union to pay a bill I couldn’t pay online. I bribed them (and by them I mean Little Boy) to be good with the promise of suckers and prayed he didn’t destroy something there.

10:10am: A miracle occurred. Little Boy only ran away from me once during the transaction. Suckers and happy faces all around.

10:30am: Little Boy almost electrocuted himself poking my car keys into an electric socket.

10:45am: Little Boy started pitching dog food into the dog’s crate. 

11:00am: After warning my babysitter (my sister, thankfully!) of the Little Boy’s track record that morning, I left for work wondering how soon before I got The Call to get home pronto.

Conclusion: I counted three new white hairs for the morning. And my blood pressure was higher than it used to be. Even better, I have a whole new batch of great stories to tell at Little Boy’s high school graduation party, engagement party, and wedding reception.