My daughter has been sick for the last few days and today is her first day back to school. I woke her up at the usual time, then was preoccupied with ten thousand other things before I realized her breakfast was still sitting uneaten on the table. It was 30 minutes after I first went in and woke her up.
”Gracie!! Are you up??” A groggy voice calls back, “I am now…” Dear. LORD.
Much scrambling and nagging took place. Then we tore out the door, my 4-year-old and me still in our pajamas (he’s home sick today) and Gracie, looking forlorn and puny. There’s that mommy guilt that sets in when they no longer have a fever but still feel puny and you make them go to school.
We live in a rural area with 2-lane roads, so if you get behind a slow vehicle, you are screwed. And wouldn’t you know it, this morning we got behind a truck and trailer going 25 mph the whole way.
My daughter’s school starts at 9:25 a.m. And guess what time we got to school? 9:24 a.m.
Sigh. At least we weren’t late.
This story represents a typical night in my crazy household. I don’t think this stuff happens in normal households…
My 17-year-old daughter caught a fairly large fish for her Marine Biology class’ tank. Well…sadly, it died before it got to the school, so she got a 5-gallon bucket and put the dead fish in it before she went to work tonight. I’m not totally sure why, but she left the thing in the bucket in her room.
She left her door open, and later, my 4-year-old son peeked in her room and yelled, “water is on KK’s floor!!” I ran in there and found the bucket surrounded by a hundred little wet cat paw prints. Panic began to set in as I realized there was a good-sized dead fish somewhere in my house. I yelled at the kids to look everywhere for it, and I knew we had better find it before my husband came in from the garage. He’s a sweet guy, but he’s been on a rampage about us having “too many animals” at our house (we have 2 dogs, 2 cats, 2 rabbits, a few fish, and around 20 chickens…I don’t see the problem, do you?) and this would have pushed him right over the edge.
So there were the kids and me, running around looking under the table, the desk, in the laundry room, etc. I was yelling, “Think like a cat! Where would you put a big, dead fish if you were a cat?!” After a few minutes of tearing through the house looking, I ran into our master bedroom to find the fish there on the carpet. On my CARPETTTTTTT. I heard my husband come in from the garage, so I quickly scooped the fish up in a towel from the laundry basket and nonchalantly walked into our eldest’s room and dumped the fish back in the bucket.
I put down a clean towel over the carpet where the fish was laying and so far my husband hasn’t asked why it’s there. Maybe it just blends in with all the other crap laying around our house, I don’t know. I’m trying to decide which would be less noticeable: to cut out that section of carpet or to burn the house down? I’ll figure that out in the morning.