Well, another birthday weekend has come to an end, because, with all the enthusiasm of flat tires, flu shots, bloody noses, and PMS, Monday always rolls around.
Also? It has been forty-eight hours, and Hubs’ Honda is still covered in SPF-75 sunscreen. Apparently, Coppertone takes WATERPROOF to a level that the Navy and every submarine ever invented wishes they could achieve.
What? The Red October has sprung a leak? Well, let me spray some of this sunscreen all over it, and we’ll be good to cross the entire Atlantic before our next maintenance checkup.
In other words, Hubs’ new favorite pastime is watching You Tube videos on HOW TO REMOVE SUNSCREEN FROM THE SIDES OF VEHICLES. The good news is that videos on this topic actually exist, and there are literally thousands of people who have written in with advice on message boards, so I feel like we are standing on a firm platform of MY KID SPRAYED COPPERTONE ALL OVER OUR HONDA, TOO. We are not alone in this, and have many parents standing shoulder-to-shoulder with us in support, across the globe.
God bless the You Tube. I don’t know how we managed to survive as a species before its invention.
On Saturday, Hubs woke up, another year older. We celebrated his birthday with a few gifts at home, with coffee in our hands. And then, we raked leaves.
Adulting is hard. When you’re an adult, you sometimes have to spend your birthday raking leaves, because it’s the one window of great weekend weather you have, before winter hits.
We pretty much live in Sherwood Forest, if you want to know how many leaves we have on our little chunk of property. Remember when God told Abraham that He was going to bless him with descendants? And that his descendants would be greater than the stars in the sky and the sand on the shores? God should have added, “And my blessing to you will be descendants more numerous than the leaves in the yard of Hubs and Mama.”
Leaves from our yard alone will be responsible for providing Small Town, USA with 97% of its mulch, come spring. In other words, “You’re welcome, gardeners!”
The boy loves to drive the riding lawn mower over the leaves, which instantly picks them up, grinds them into brown powder, and deposits them in a giant set of buckets on the back, which can be dumped in the green waste dumpster across the street from our house. The only downfall is that the boy has mild asthma, which is always triggered by dust.
This year, our kid kept himself from drastically wheezing by tying a kitchen dish towel around his face, exactly like John Wayne would’ve done it.
Mild asthma will not stand in the way of driving a riding lawn mower!
Of course, Thing 2 mooched numerous rides with his Bubbie all afternoon.
When he wasn’t riding on the mower with his big brother, Thing 2 helped out by hauling leaves in his Tonka dump truck. The truck and the dirt and the uncountable dead leaves kept that preschooler of ours busy for hours and hours…
… and HOURS.
(He DID take a few breaks to ride his bike up and down the driveway, which is why he needed his MINJUN Turtle bike helmet.)
… Thing 2 owns every piece of heavy machinery a boy could ever hope to own, EXCEPT a giant snowplow.
He has dump trucks and graders. He has backhoes, excavators, bobcats, combines, tractors, trailers and front end loaders.
What he DOESN’T HAVE is a snowplow.
And what he thought would be QUITE USEFUL on Saturday was…
… a snowplow.
So he made his own, by hooking a giant snow shovel onto his dump truck. And then he pushed that dump truck for six hundred and ninety-three miles, scooping leaves with the shovel.
By the time Hubs and the boys were ready to call it quits for the day, Thing 2 looked like he’d been digging in a coal mine for a week without a bath. I’m not sure that ANY snapshot will be able to convey exactly how dirty our four-year-old was, but listen:
WE HAD RIVERS OF DIRT IN THE SHOWER THAT EVENING.
Of the dirt.
After showers on Saturday evening, we met Hubs’ parents in the city for pizza. None of our crew had eaten lunch, because no one would come inside long enough to let me make them a sandwich. By the time we hit the pizza joint, I had three starving boys who were ready to eat like a pack of Great White Sharks.
Grammy ordered three appetizers and two large pizzas. Honestly, I surveyed all that food and thought, “We could feed the entire restaurant with the stuff on our table!”
And then my three boys made it all disappear like a pride of lions who have just brought down a wildebeest. The boy was so hungry, he actually ate little bread balls filled with hamburger AND SAUERKRAUT!!!
THE BOY WILLINGLY ATE SAUERKRAUT!
If that doesn’t explain his level of HUNGRY, nothing will, because our boy doesn’t touch sauerkraut.
And neither does his mama, for that matter.
After dinner, we all waddled home. Grammy and Papa joined us at our house for a chocolate, Denver Bronco cake, which I forgot to take a picture of.
Happy Monday night, y’all.