Monday, July 31, 2006
Proof positive of why you should never send a child to do a woman's work
Ok .... and Mom didn't get in the shower until ... oh ... 8. Ace followed shortly thereafter. At T-minus 10 and counting, Ace finally loaded the girls up in the van, and the Door Man and I were to follow in the car.
We make it outside, get in the car, make it about 1/2 block down the street when I realize .... shit. I forgot my feminine supplies. I waffled on whether I would go back and get them, and decided that I would hate myself if I didn't.
We sped back home, and instead of taking matters into my own hands, I decide to send the Door Man in for them.
Yeah... I like to traumatize my kids. So sue me.
"Hey ... run inside REALLLY quick ... go into Mommy's bathroom and on my counter are two green things that are about this (showing him the length) big ... can you run in and get them?"
Running is a new art form for the Man. He doesn't run. He lopes. Like a horse. Seriously. It is seriously a three-gaited lope, and no he doesn't have three legs.
He comes back out, hand clenched in a fist, shit-eating grin on his face. Uh oh... this could mean one of two things: (1) he is really proud of himself because he found exactly what I needed him to find or (2) his mother's mean streak has come out and he brought something totally wrong out to me.
He chose the latter.
However ... I have to hand it to him. They both stop things up.
I'm a mom of three peeps ... Queen Bee, The Door Man, and the Chandelier Monkey, and wife to Ace, the Helpful Hardware Man. I created this space to get away from the people known as my inlaws, and because life with three kids and a hubby is all Unexplored Territory.
Mommy Off the Record soon to leave