After tucking the kids in last night, MC came downstairs and said, "Bubba said you wanted to talk to me about something?" In our house this typically means that one of the kids is trying to finagle their way into being allowed to do something which I must then debate with MC. My response to this particular request was, "Huh, wha? I'm supposed to be talking to you about something?" I had no clue what it was we were supposed to be discussing. I racked my brain trying to remember if Bubba and I had talked about anything but my mind was a complete blank (I know, big surprise, right?). Then suddenly I had a vague recollection of Bubba talking about wanting to earn money by walking dogs. At least, I think that's what he was talking about.
Apparently there is a lesson that my little minions have yet to learn about their Mommy. If Mommy has a book in her hand and her eyes are on it, you no longer exist. MC is catching on, I believe, but I have had to admit that, although I did just answer questions and nod at correct intervals, I couldn't recall a single word of the conversation that we just had and could he please repeat everything he just said? Reading is sacred escape time for me. I don't just read my books, I am completely absorbed in them. The world could come crashing down around me but as long as I can still read the words on the page, I wouldn't even flinch.
So I was lost in my book when Bubba started chatting away. He didn't talk until he was 4 and it's like he's always trying to make up for lost time. When this kid starts talking, he doesn't shut up! Most of the time I play Sainted Mommy and listen to everything he says, make eye contact and respond appropriately. But last night was MC's night to tuck in the kids which meant after riding herd on the minions to complete their chores, I checked out. When Bubba started talking about wanting to earn money (to buy stink bombs, by the way), I listened dutifully for a moment or two but that book was calling out to me. It was a sound I couldn't resist. I do remember Bubba asking me something which I might have responded with a generic "I'll talk to Daddy", but I really couldn't be sure. I do know that I told him we would talk about it in the morning, to which he answered with a very firm, "AFTER breakfast." Sure, sure, honey...whatever.
The only thing is, what was "it"? Were we still on the dog walking thing? I do remember him asking if he could babysit toddlers. Heavens to Betsy, let's pray I didn't encourage him in that one. Were we going to be discussing stink bombs? 'Cause that one's pretty cut and dry--no stink bombs in my house. I really have no idea what he said since I'd been lost in fiction. He pretty much lost me at "hello". I love the kid, I really do, but he can go on and on. And on. And don't forget--there was a book involved.
So far today, he hasn't asked if Daddy and I have talked about "it" and I hope he doesn't remember. But I'm thinking I should probably set down a cardinal rule that if Mommy's nose is buried in a book, go ask Daddy.
January 28, 2011
January 3, 2011
I woke up the other day and dragged my tired body upstairs to find that my wonderful MC had set my water kettle on for my tea. How sweet and thoughtful he is! Except...he turned the wrong burner on. Instead of turning on the back burner where the kettle was, he turned on the front burner...where my Pampered Chef rectangle stone sat. "That can't be good," I thought in all my brilliancy. So I tried to push it off the burner. That push was all it took. The darn thing split open like a pistachio. While Pampered Chef warranties against breakage, they don't say anything about warranties against negligence or just plain stupidity. Which kind of sucks because stoneware comes in a light shade of sand and it takes years of greasy foods and high fat meals to get the thing seasoned just right.
But after recovering from the shock of seeing my favorite cookware shatter into 3 puzzle pieces, I prepared for my hot water which was now heating up on the correct burner. Reaching into the cupboard, I grabbed a mug that had been put away upside down--meaning right side up. It wasn't that I wanted this particular mug for my tea, it was just that I couldn't stand to see it sitting in the cupboard WRONG. So I flipped it over. Only to discover that it was my tea mug from the day before that I had never got around to drinking. I had set it up in the cupboard with the intention of heating it back up and drinking it at some point. Well, because I am just that good, I managed to spill tea EVERYWHERE. It spilled all over the 2nd shelf as well as the bottom one, AND--because my cupboards have no doors thanks to another moment of my brilliancy--it also spilled all over the counter. The tea that spilled on the 2nd shelf leaked down onto the 1st shelf which spilled over, adding even more to the mess on the counter.
So with a shrug of my shoulder, I cleaned up the mess. I wanted to blame it all on the fact that it was Monday but the truth was this kind of thing happens to me all.the.time. Really, it's just typical stuff for a day that ends in "y".