Tuesday, October 16, 2007


Today was a blessing, like the one before and the one before that.

I got home last night at 12:45, after driving three hours back from my meeting, rain pouring down, listening to music as loud as it would go.

This morning I slept in. Woke up in time to send my youngest off to school. ("Daddy loves you. Make good choices. Say goodbye to the dog. She has rabies.")

Then a lunch meeting. Drove there. Meeting canceled. Back home.

Oh good, email about a project. Not the "yeah, whatever" kind. The "this will trash whatever remains of my reputation if I screw it up" kind. Due next week. Fortunately it's a busy time at work.

Middle kid comes home. Says hello, does his homework.

I join him in the kitchen. Prepare the marinade for tonight's dinner. I'm rushed because it's his conference night at school. I turn my back and marinade spills all over the floor.

"Shit, fuck, sonofabitch, someone's going to die!"

He looks at me and says, "I'll get the mop." He does and we clean.

I remake the marinade, throw him in the car. We meet the Lovely Bride at the school. Conferences are good, he's doing well, the teachers like him, he's got friends, hooray for my parenting skills.

The conference ends. My oldest calls. He went to a teammate's house for dinner and needs a ride home. He gives me teenager directions and I get hopelessly lost. The gas gauge empty light comes on. I finally find him, call home to have the broiler preheated, fill up the tank. My oldest is mad because I've been short with him, won't talk to me on the ride home.

Come home, make dinner. Now I understand why that meat was on sale. Use enough peanut sauce, it's fine.

Get back in the car to pick up the youngest at basketball practice. Middle son wants to come. Fine. Youngest is spending the weekend at the farm of a friend's relative and needs a Halloween costume for a party they're having. We waste forty-five minutes deciding among the eight available costumes at the store. Finally I break the gridlock by throwing a princess costume in the cart. My son panics and swaps it for a bleeding skeleton costume and a plastic sword. Good enough.

We get back in the car and the youngest asks how his brother's conference went. "It was great," I said, "your brother's doing a good job. Nice and short."

"I wonder if mine will be short," he asks.

"Probably not," I say. "With yours we have to meet with the police liaison and the school psychologist."

The middle one laughs and the younger one sighs. We get home, again. The oldest is talking to me now, as much as he ever does, and I get a grunt as I walk in the door. I help the youngest pack, feed the dog, start the dishes, do a load of laundry.

The kids and I go downstairs. I plug in a DVD with some episodes of last season's The Office. We watch a couple, the kids get tired, go up to bed. I think about doing some work. I think, I've done enough for other people today. I'm going to do what I want to do. And so I write this.


Righteous Bubba said...

Please share the secret of wanting to write stuff. Pills? Women in leather with whips? A tiny ingrown homunculus biting your neck?

Anonymous said...

God, do I ever know about "teenager directions." And then when you ask a question, they look at your like you're the dumbest person who's ever lived and say something like, "Don't you know anything?!"

No! I know nothing! And then I prove it by saying something like, "Will you just shut up and tell me already??!!"

Adorable Girlfriend said...

You should just have the kids put to sleep.

Keep Katie.

zombie rotten mcdonald said...

We've got conference tonight. It's not by appointment, it's wait-in-line, so I'll take my iPhone and see if I can hack the school's wireless net.

last night though, I took the Boy and Lady Pilgrim to a show. I'll bet the Boy was the only one in middle school today wearing a "Rollins: Provoked" t-shirt.

We may be bad parents, but language doesn't scare us.

And Boy is in a bilingual school, so he'll be able to help when we have to evade the cops and run to Tijuana.

Anonymous said...

"A tiny ingrown homunculus biting your neck?"

lol :)

"I think, I've done enough for other people today. I'm going to do what I want to do. And so I write this."

You go, Snag!

Anonymous said...

I think, I've done enough for other people today. I'm going to do what I want to do. And so I write this.

this? that's such an anti-climax. thought you were going to build another firepit or something explodey. YOU LET US DOWN, SNAG!!! YOU LET US DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWN!!!