We are rounding the bend, folks. Hubby is coming home on Sunday afternoon. Yes, he of impeccable timing will have missed the Jumpzone party and any chance that I can take a nap that day. Unbelievable. He'll be here in time for dinner,.. which I supposed I have to dust off the cook books and remember how to cook.
But first we have to hide the evidence of our opulent lifestyle. We have to eat the rest of Martha Greens' cake that got left at my house after my Tuesday night girly night (Score! I know when to host a party - I want the leftover cake!) We have two days left to make our way to Long John Silver's. But seriously, just thinking about that place makes my triceps flap around. We should eat the rest of the prepared meals to make way for real food that needs to be lovingly transformed into something edible, instead of something you just zap in a microwave oven. I need to drink the rest of the preground coffee and go get the real beans.
Don't get me wrong, we are happy to have daddy back. if for no other reason than needing someone to figure out how to turn off the close captioning on the TV that mysteriously showed up at at the beginning of the week. Do you know how irritating it is to have closed captioning when you are trying to concentrate on watching what's happening on the TV show? Or how annoying it is to constantly have discussions with your 13 year old on 'Why do they have closed captioning on American Idol, anyway? Do you really think deaf people watch that show?" I don't know honey, I'm trying to watch the show that has closed captioning on the bottom third and not get distracted by five small bodies propelling themselves around my house,..
And I don't know why I always think I'll have some sort of major freedom when Hubby leaves. It's not like I'm shackled to my house more when he's here,... But for some reason I always think I'll do more for myself when he's gone. Why is that? Instead of two adults to take care of five kids, there is only one. Obviously, I'm not good at math. What have I accomplished? No girlie movies have been watched. I can't watch scary movies because I'm too much of a wimp to watch them when hubby is not here. Gym? Once I think, before the B caught 'gymdaycarphobia' and really, who can blame her? The attendants for the most part do nothing and the place looks like a jail cell - concrete walls and a small window for the kiddies to peer out and see their parents sweating away on a machine. I can't really sell it, because my heart's not in it. Running? Meh,.. a few times, but it's been raining and cold (below 70) and I'm sure someone will get sick if I take them out in the wind (because I'm so swift, ya know). Rowing machine? Hahahahahaha. Hubby's lucky I haven't wheeled it over to the edge of the pool, frankly.
So, while I'm excited to hear he's doing great and has taken boat rides and danced til midnight with small children and 100 year old womene (the others are off limits, so says our marriage contract), visited volcanoes and hiked in the jungle, I'll try not to be jealous that my sould fullfilling activities are smaller in impact. I have to drum up some stories about my exciting life. Uhm,.. picking buggers off car seats with my finger nail? Nah,.. The 8 year old getting medicine from a blister beetle for the bumps on his back? Marginal,...Whether or not the 2 year old's vomit this morning was a 5 alarm (she's got something infectious! Quarrantine!) or 1 alarm (apple juice went down the wrong pipe and should I keep sniffing the couch to assess the damage, or just 'fess up and break out the cleaning equipment now,..)
Well, the pups are up. Gotta feed the masses.
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