I know that I’m going to make some of you frightfully jealous when I tell you about our weekend.
On Friday night, we had pizzas from a trusty little take-and-bake pizza shop here in town. They know me by name there, and they understand that I will never deviate from what I order. Ever. One large cheese pizza. One large all-the-meat-and-some-onions pizza. It’s as predictable as baby birds in spring and fall raking.
(Speaking of baby birds… listen, y’all. A mama robin has had the audacity to build her nest on the little “exhaust do-hickey” [which is a very professional term] for our gas fireplace outside. This means that if we push the button that automatically lights our fireplace in half of a second, we may hard boil some baby eggs, because Mama Robin has begun her family there. And today? Well, it poured rain most of the day, and DO YOU KNOW WHAT WOULD HAVE BEEN NICE? That’s right. Eggs for dinner!)
(Just kidding. A fire! A FIRE would have been nice, but we are very much into the conservation of baby robins, who haven’t even hatched yet, so we just wore sweatshirts and skipped the whole “push the button and light a fire in the fireplace, exactly like John Wayne would’ve done it” routine.)
Friday is pretty much a blur now, because when you’re elderly, you simply forget what happened two days ago.
Or even two minutes ago.
I subbed most of Friday in the pre-kindergarten classroom at the school where I teach PE. I know that I encountered more drippy noses than an entire continent of four-year-olds could ever produce, and we only had sixteen kiddos. By Friday night, I was a hot mess of exhaustion, so I’m pretty sure I went to bed early.
That seems to be par for the course around here these days.
On Saturday, we had Family House Cleaning Time. This involved me making a written list (OH!!! HOW I LOVE LISTS!!!) of every big and small housework task that needed done around here.
It was two pages long.
I’m sure Snow White felt the same way when she first stepped into the Seven Dwarfs’ cottage.
Hubs and the boy were just delighted to see my list. I know this, because they displayed their excitement and enthusiasm by rolling their eyes into the backs of their heads and mumbling things I couldn’t hear and proclaiming, “I didn’t think our house was that bad!”
True hoarders never do.
So we vacuumed and mopped and picked up. We made beds, scrubbed sinks, and found lost pieces of train track beneath the living room sofa. We did dishes, we did laundry and we did garbage duty.
And then we breathed a sigh of relief and had Taco Bell for dinner.
There was also hockey on Saturday night, because… well… it’s the playoffs. Hubs is now watching EVERY. SINGLE. HOCKEY. GAME., regardless of whether it’s even OUR TEAM playing. It’s like he’s a hockey scout, watching films, trying to decide which player to double up the defense on when we play them. I think Hubs and Patrick Roy have been talking; I’m sure Pat will be taking Hubs’ trained suggestions, because what Hubs and Coach Roy have in common is that neither one of them ever thinks it’s JUST TOO EARLY to pull a goalie.
Hubs is of the notion that we could actually START a hockey game with an empty net, and skate with an extra offensive player for a while.
I know that I went to bed before the game ended on Saturday night, which Hubs doesn’t understand.
This morning, we had church, and then we stopped at the deli and bought chicken.
This afternoon, we went to our friends’, Tony and Deb’s, house. Tony and their teenage son, T, have built a climbing wall in their basement, and they all wanted to see Thing 2 give it a whirl.
Everyone was armed with a camera, and listen: Thing 2 took one look at that wall and one look at the entire 30-gallon Rubbermaid tub of Thomas the Train pieces that Deb had upstairs, and he COMPLETELY VETOED the climbing.
Whoo-whooooo. (Which is toddler speak for TRAIN.)
While we were there, Deb’s darling sister, Jackie (who has always been referred to as Aunt Jackie by my boys, because she’s such a doll to them) snapped THIS of Thing 2:
It melts MY heart, too!
On the way home from Deb and Tony’s house, we stopped at McDonald’s, because the boys were hungry.
Listen. Don’t judge us. Our refrigerator is bare, and no one had a strong enough constitution to hit up the grocery store for fresh produce and skinless chicken breasts and wheat germ this weekend.
Basically, we have eaten the equivalent of a nutritionist’s horror show over the past two days. I’ll regret it all tomorrow morning, when I wake up covered in more acne than can be found at a high school prom.
And now it’s bedtime for the toddler, and it’s time that I encouraged the boy to GET THAT HOMEWORK DONE ALREADY, BECAUSE MONDAY IS JUST A FEW HOURS AWAY!
Y’all have a merry Sunday night, and please: Don’t use as as examples on how you should eat. We are the exact opposite of how you should eat.
Our detox diets begin tomorrow.