TGIF

Tuesday Morning: Speeding ticket two miles from J’s school.

Wednesday Morning: And so continues our troubles with transportation. Mario's truck has decided not be reliable. At the risk of sounding a bit spoiled, can I just say that week two of sharing a vehicle has been a bit of an inconvenience? Not to mention a strain on the pocket book. Ouch.

Add dropping off my husband at his office to my list of usual morning stops…oh, and picking up too. Okay, so it IS fun to visit and have the extra time together but I feel like I have been in the car long enough every morning that I should be pulling in to a beach somewhere. With the backpacks, diaper bags, changes of clothes, and computer bags piled up in the back…we certainly would have enough luggage to be checking in somewhere.

One morning en route, Mario looked at the clock and said, Have we SERIOUSLY been in the car for an hour??

Welcome to my world, Dear!

Thursday: Complete blur….I can’t even remember.

Friday Morning: After dropping J & M both off, I looked forward to spending some time with Jeryn and getting a few things done. I returned some movies to Hastings two weeks ago, but this week they called to give me a friendly reminder that I had kept one of the movies out longer than expected. Not that I would EVER do that :) I called and explained that I had returned both at the same and asked that they look into it further because I was certain that it had been returned. They promised a call back which I never received, so I thought I would run in and make sure they had found it. Thankfully they had. And then J wanted to rent The Black Stallion. We spent way too long looking for it and when we arrived at the checkout, the sweet little girl working told me that they had it for sale for $3.99. So off we went to spend way too much time looking for it again. In the used section, I found two more movies about black stallions for $3.99. One was a movie we once had, but watched so much it skipped. I decided this was a justifiable purchase and made my way back to the checkout counter.

Again, the sweet little girl was trying to help and said, “You know that if you buy three from the used section, you get a fourth for a dollar.”

I didn’t want a fourth, but I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. She was extra helpful and friendly. So off we went and pretended to look even though we returned to the counter empty handed. By the time I got out of there, it was almost time for the consignment shop to open. I had spent a few hours cleaning our closet last week and had sorted the stuff for good will and a few things for consignment.

It turned out to be more of a hassle than it was worth.

Sometimes you will get a really nice one that will check everything in and if it doesn’t sell, you never really know it. But at least you don’t get your feelings hurt in the drop off line. This time I was lucky enough to get the consignment chief of police.

“This one has two small stains.”
“This one is too heavy for spring and summer.”
“This one appears to have a water stain.”
“This one has a hanger crease.”
“This one has a few knobbies on it.”
“You MIGHT could get this spot out with some club soda and then bring it back and try me.”

In between those kind gestures were remarks like these:

“Your son is climbing on our fence.”
“Your son is about to knock our fence down AGAIN.”
“Your son is taking the toys out of the kid section.”

I smiled and apologized multiple times, but I was really thinking, “If you think that’s bad lady, you should smell him right now.” On one trip to peel him off of the wooden fence around the play area, I realized what he had been hiding in the doll house and doing.
Meanwhile, he moved both chairs to the counter and tried to climb up on it.

I was afraid the growing line behind me would get a whiff, so I carried him back to the play area, made threats, and muttered something about feeling like I was “about to go crazy” under my breath. No sooner had it came out of my mouth and the nice lady behind me said, “I thought I recognized you two!”

I was unsure of what that could mean. Did that mean that she was used to seeing me chase my son and make threats? Did that mean that she had seen me in the tacky clothes I was trying to resell??

It probably didn’t mean anything other than a friendly hello. Her child attends Jaiden’s school and she is quite possibly the sweetest parent of any child there. Embarrassed and still a bit flustered, we talked and my mind drifted to wondering if she had a keen sense of smell.

I drug my bag of clothes back out the door, along with Jeryn, who by this point had said, “I smell something yuck.”

This was beginning to look like a repeat of last Friday in the parking lot of a local restaurant. I realize this is gross, AND that this is the www. I also realize that you probably don’t care to read this. But for my own sake, I’m venting: One bad diaper, exploding all the way to the tag of his shirt. Three wet wipes left in the box. And NO extra clothes. Oh wait…I bought his Easter outfit earlier that morning! Let’s wear our Easter outfit into a casual restaurant on a Friday night when the rest of my family look like bums! You do what you have to.

Where was I?? Oh, the consignment shop...Friday morning. I changed him in the car the best you can change a “bull in a china closet”, and gasped when I looked down in the floorboard to see Esther feasting on the dirty diaper.

As I looked up, sweetest woman in the world from Jaiden’s school was waving as she drove off. Maybe she didn’t see our dog eating the diaper. Maybe she did. At any rate, TGIF.