As my daughter would say, "I see London, I see France, I see ______'s underpants."
This scene happens far too often for me. Hubby's clothes laid out and ready to be packed up. This time for a week. I'm seeing tennis shoes and a tie in this photo. Those scientists are sure whacky. He left last Thursday. It is Sunday morning. There have been tears already (on my part).
So, the kid had a friend here for a sleepover Friday night. Her mom was out of town on business (is there an epidemic or something?), and he was way busy, so could I take care of two kids instead of just one? Well sure. Those little cockroaches didn't go to bed until 10:00 (my darn bedtime). Those little cockroaches got up at 5:45. That's a.m. Since hubby is gone, I heard all sorts of noises and slept only a couple of winks. Then I got to cook breakfast for those early risers. The sight of me cooking ain't pretty. But I didn't cry. Not then.
I woozily entertained the young one yesterday. Lunch out. The library. The duckpond. Then mama, sleeping standing up, decided to have some coffee. It's hot and I'm crabby (understatement). We come home and I have my coffee and I walk the dog in the sweltering heat. I'm waiting for someone to call and perhaps return the favor of child-watching for a couple of hours. That doesn't happen. I bow to the DVD player and insert a disc. Ahhhhh. The Sound of Music is quite a long movie. At movie's end I hear a lot of sniffling. I figure she's seen this movie one too many times to be moved to tears. She dramatically clamps her hand to her forehead and declares she is ill. I get the thermometer. She is indeed ill. So we will spend our Sunday in exile. Sort of. While we can't go to the pool or have a play date, we will be sitting in the air conditioned comfort of the local movie bunker to watch the new Shrek. I'll load her up with Benedryl and we will have a dandy time.
Perhaps its the end of the school year stress. School will be out at 12:15 on Tuesday. That leaves several days of entertaining until summer camps start. Perhaps it is lack of sleep. Perhaps it is the fact that I broke the bedroom shade and now everyone in the neighborhood can see me reading in bed at night. Or maybe its the kitchen cabinet door that broke. Or maybe that I waited all morning for hubby to call in from Portugal and I left the phone in the attic and missed his call. Or the vomiting cat. Or the barking dog that is eating the cat vomit (could that be an advantage). Or the dog who vomits after eating the cat vomit. Maybe heat and neglecting to get the hubby to put in the window unit before he left. Or the fact that there is no food in the house and I don't want to take a sneezing snotting kid to the store. Could be that I'm just a whiner and don't like it when I whine. But I'm just driven to tears this morning.
I know what happens next. Happens every summer when the man leaves town. Bats. The bats come in. And I duck and scream. And I'm up to 2:00 am trying to shoo them out of the house. Will that happen tonight? Tomorrow? They're out there looking for way in. They'll find it.
Now I'm off to play cards with the kid. Then I'll employ my culinary skill for lunch (peanut butter sandwiches). I'll say bless you 435 times. We'll go to the movies. Eat something from the freezer. I'll crawl into bed in full view of my neighbor (is this why he is planting a hedge today), and lie awake listening to murderers creeping into the house. Then when the alarm goes off tomorrow morning, I'll be thinking of what medicines to fill my child with so she can go to school and hopefully reinfect the slimebucket that germed her up to begin with.
Hope everyone is having a lovely Sunday.
Flashback Friday -- The Pogues
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