Boring Chemistry

At this very moment, I have a meatloaf in the oven.  The boy is at golf practice.  Hubs has Thing 2 at the ice rink, where he’s playing some hockey and diligently trying to remember that hockey sticks are not for hitting opposing players with.  And here I am, at home with this meatloaf baking itself right up, which has been laboriously timed to be pulled out of the oven just as everyone is getting home from their sports.  They will be hungry, and I will provide for them, exactly like the Proverbs 31 woman is famous for doing.

Add to that the small fact that I did 96% of the staggering pile of laundry today, AND wiped down the bathrooms, AND swept the hardwood floors, AND ran a handful of errands, AND cleaned Thing 2’s bedroom, which he immediately demolished again when he came home from school.

Basically, I’m winning at Momming today.

Thank you.  Thank you for the applause.

The boy is taking an advanced chemistry class.  It’s because the boy is officially smarter than both of his parents are now, so he can do big things like this.  I have a nervous breakdown whenever anyone asks me to prepare a main dish for dinner that requires more than six different ingredients.  You can imagine the way my brain short-circuits and sends bolts of static electricity straight out the back of my head when I’m asked to mix compounds together, that need to be boiled over a Bunsen burner and stirred, all while wearing protective eye wear.  It’s enough to generate an all-out, Oscar-worthy faint.

Since the boy’s class has the word ADVANCED in front of the word CHEMISTRY, it does tend to mean that I am completely incapable of anything that goes on in there, unless it’s a lesson on not mixing bathroom cleaners together while scrubbing a tub.  THAT’S something I could pass a test on.

When the boy announced that he had to conduct an experiment at home and write a summary on it for his homework, I simply checked out.

And by checked out, I mean that I suddenly realized I had very important things to do, which were going to take me out of the kitchen for the next hour.  Candy Crush had to be attended to in the living room.

The boy asked Thing 2 if he’d like to do some chemistry experiments with him, and Thing 2 was game.  Of course, he was game before he even knew what chemistry experiments were, because his motto is ANYTHING IS FUN, WHEN YOUR HIGH SCHOOL BROTHER IS DOING IT, TOO.

The two of them got busy mixing things like salt and vinegar with other things that sounded a little sketchy.  I wasn’t sure what the boy was creating, but I knew it wouldn’t be DINNER, by the way our kitchen smelled like an egg-dyeing factory before Easter.

Vinegar is not a smell I cherish in the depths of my heart.

Later, I asked Thing 2 what their chemistry experiment had been about.

He told me, “I have no idea, Mom.  It was kind of boring because nothing exploded.  I was kind of mad about that, because Bubbie told me that sometimes stuff blows up in chemistry experiments.  Ours didn’t blow up at all.”

THIS, people, is why Hubs and I always remember the saying, “Change your clocks, change your batteries,” whenever we lose and gain an hour with Daylight Savings Time.  Our smoke alarm batteries are ALWAYS up-to-date and current.

On a different note, we pray that your Easter weekend will be a lovely one, filled with the joy of an empty tomb and a Savior who paid the price of our sins.

Happy Easter, y’all.

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