When I get a night out on my own, the gust of air generated from me hightailing out the door can power a small town. But at the end of the night, the wind in my sails is gone and I develop a twitch in my left eye wondering what’s waiting for me on the other side of that door.
Case in point, a few nights ago I came home from a relaxing dinner with friends – greeted the husband on the couch watching tv, detected no sounds coming from either of the boys’ rooms, and surveyed a (relatively) tidy living room. All seemed well – at least that’s what I went to bed thinking.
The morning after, within ten minutes of waking up, I noticed the following in no particular order:
- scraped chin and bandaged knee on my big guy
- purplish, red bruise on the forehead of my little guy
- a handful of aquamarine splotches on the living room carpet that smelled curiously minty fresh.
The conversation that came next went something like this:
Me: What in the hell happened here last night?
Husband: What do you mean?
Me: For starters, why are the kids all banged up?
Husband: We were playing outside – they got a few scrapes – it happens.
And then he launched into his usual speech that by the time he was five, he had about a million stitches and neither of our kids have gotten any yet (pause for my knock on wood), which can only mean that they’re not living life to the fullest and are downright being deprived of fun.
Me: <MY “IT’S 6:30AM” SIGH> Well…why is there toothpaste all over the carpet?
Husband: What toothpaste?
Me: <AN ENCORE OF MY “IT’S 6:30AM” SIGH> Are you kidding me? Here…here…here…and…here.
Husband: Huh, yeah…I have no idea.
Me: Really? Huh.
Moments later, as I’m scrubbing the inexplicable toothpaste out of the carpet, I’m supposing I should be thankful that the fallout from the evening didn’t include a trip to the emergency room.
Last 5 posts by MoltoMom
- On the cusp of 3… - October 13th, 2008
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- Don’t Drink the Kool-Aid - November 4th, 2008
- Judging the Caffeine - November 13th, 2008
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