Some days need an undo button. I would have worn that button out today…
Jack had a sleepover last night and he and his friend slept in a tent that I set up in the front yard. I took them to the town pool last night and then got them pizza. This morning I decided to take them to the beach. Seemingly innocent and relaxing.
My trouble started on the way to the beach, first with me missing the turn to the highway, taking us miles out of the way, and then with me hacking my shoulder open on a hook at the gas station rest area as I kindly jumped out of the way to let a lady pass. That’s a 4″ x 1″ mark that I will have forever. If I made that turn I would have never stopped at that rest area and my shoulder would not have gotten mauled. 😦
Then at the beach I helped Jack video tape some stuff for his You Tube channel (Trick Shots & Stuff) and slipped on a rock (that I said was not slippery) and received two knifelike wounds on my heel that are about 2″ long and 1/4″ deep. I could hold mail in those cuts and it would stand right up. As I hopped over to the lifeguard station on my tiptoe I stepped on a shell that punctured the same foot and left a wicked wound in the shape and size of a bullet hole. Wtf. These are all throbbing as I type this…
(It gets better)
I then take jack and the friend for seafood, and ice cream. We head home and drop the friend at his house. I walk in my door finally (well limp) and go directly to my fridge and pop open a can of orange seltzer water. I shriek! The pop tab has nearly severed my pointer finger because it has this metal shard hanging off of it. I whimper, bandage THAT part of me, and want my day to end; however we had plans to take another friend of Jack’s out with us to see some fireworks, so we have to hurry and get ready to go. I wonder how much fun I’ll be with all my boo-boos, and whether or not I can even go to taekeondo next week!
Jack: We should have filmed more trick shots n stuff but you were… “hurt”.
me: Jack, my foot was hacked to bits today, sheesh. I did film you in all those other parts before I cut my foot. Remember?
Jack: No. You never want to do ANYTHING!!!!!
A comment from one of my readers sent me back to an old post and I started to reminisce and read stuff from 2010, which led me to THIS post. It’s pretty funny to go back and read all of the crazy things that went on with a 5 year old. And 6. And 7. I’m surprised I’m still writing. Albeit, less frequently. But here I am!
Jack was and still is a funny guy. Today we went to Jack’s new camp. He’s doing two week intervals between outdoor nature camp and indoor gymnastics camp. I have to say, with this weather, I’m glad he’s indoors. It’s sickeningly hot out there!
Jack: Oh yeah it’s my first day at gymnastics camp! I forgot!
me: Yeah, you’ll do this for two weeks and see how you like it. Then back to the outdoor camp.
Jack: (Looks around horrified.) Mommm …(tug tug) these are all little GIRLS!!
me: Um, hold on, let’s ask. Excuse me, are there any other boys in camp?
Lady: Oh yes! Though they might not be in Jack’s group…
me: It’s fiiine. Just wait and see how the day goes ok? I’m sure you’ll be with the boys doing boy stuff!
Jack: I do NOT want to be in a girl’s class!
me: I know, I know, but they have boy stuff too…
Lady: Ok Jack. Here’s your name tag. You’re in the PINK group this week!
Jack: (throws me a terrified look as I escape out the door)
me: Bye sweetie!
Ugh, I hope the day went well. No calls from camp so far!!! 🙂 I will let you know all about it in my next post!
This was just for fun. Imagine if I was really trying to take a nice photo.
Jack: Can I wear my jester hat and then you take a picture for our Christmas cards?
me: Can you pose nicely?
Jack: I always pose nicely!
Jack: (from the back seat of my car) Can we play airplane?
me: Okay. Thank you for flying Mom-Air! Flight attendants, prepare for takeoff.
Jack: When do we get snacks?
me: Keep your seatbelt fastened sir, we’ll come around after we reach 30,000 feet.
Jack: Can this hill be like we’re taking off?
me: Okay (I hit the gas a little and fake airplane taking off noises)
Jack: Are we up in the air yet?
me: We have reached our final altitude here at Mom-Air. The captain has turned on the “brush your teeth” sign.
Jack: Mommmmm, that’s not fun!
me: The flight attendants will be serving minty or plain flavored dental floss for your convenience.
Jack: There’s no bathroom on this plane!
me: Guess you have to hold it then. And you can floss right in your seat!
Jack: What about real stuff?
me: It’s Mom-Air, so it’s all stuff that Mom’s like.
Jack: That’s weird!! (but he’s laughing)
me: We will offer healthy snacks such as celery and apples.
Jack: Why don’t you just say “a tasteless snack will be served soon”?
me: (now I’m cracking up) That’s pretty good Jack.
Jack: Or how about “you are free to levitate any person you want back to your seat to be your slave!”
I have never been one to take eating an ice cream cone lightly. Once you’re in, you’re in. You have to commit entirely. It’s like a 10-15 minute relationship, depending on the size of the cone and the voraciousness of your appetite, multiplied by the temperature outside and who you’re with. These are all factors in your total ice cream eating experience.
If it’s sweltering hot out, you have to step your game up a notch and catch all the drips, turning the cone frantically, never pausing for fear of a major leak that could take down the entire structure. I hear drill sergeant voices in my head…”Turn”! “Pivot”! “Eat”! “LICK Goddamn it”!!! It’s almost too much pressure. Almost. And if you’re with people that like to have long lengthy conversations while eating a cone, well then, that’s a whole other thing altogether. I hold up the “one minute” finger as I massacre my cone. Yeah the finger stays up until I’m done. I don’t care who’s waiting for me to answer them. They shouldn’t have invited me for ice cream if they’re offended.
I also have this … shall we call it a “milk” thing. I will not share milk or ice cream or creamy desserts with ANYone, unless I carefully divide them ahead of time. I don’t drink my cereal milk. Ever. I don’t dunk cookies. I tried, and yes it tasted good, but the dry heaves took all the pleasure out of that. You can understand, right? (Just imagine how I felt when this happened…)
Now take ALL that “fun”, and try and teach it to a 6-year-old, or younger, whatever the case may be. I almost need to go home and sedate myself after we’re finished with a trip to Dairy Queen.
me: Do you want it in a cup?
Jack: No, definitely a cone.
me: (mild panic) But then it drips all down your wrists, and you get all sticky, so…
me: Sigh. Okay.
Jack: Oh I love the twisty ice cream!
me: Let’s go outside to eat it.
Jack: It’s so HOT out.
me: Actually, maybe we should eat inside? (I look longingly back into the frigid interior) It will melt too quickly out here.
Jack: No!! I’ll eat it REAL fast.
me: I hope so. Oh, hey it’s dripping back there. You have to turn Jack.
Jack: I AM turning. Sheesh.
me: No, here…turn it again. LICK! It’s getting all down your hand. (gag)
Jack: (trying frantically to keep up with my instructions) Hey, guess what, after we finish the ice cream we should —
me: (full panic) NO talking, just catch the drips! Don’t mash down the top with your mouth. Why are you biting the bottom off your cone!!??
Jack: So I can suck out the ice cream.
me: That’s what you do with a pointy cone, these just cave in. Sigh…
Jack: Oh, uh oh! It just caved in. (he starts shoveling pieces in his mouth and licking his hands)
me: (feeling faint) Okay okay, here just eat that and take these napkins.
Jack: (mouth entirely full) Ah thuhnk I gaht dum in ma eye!
me: Why is it in your eye! OH for Pete’s sake. Let’s go back in and wash you up.
Back inside it’s 50 degrees cooler, the kids all have cones that are still frozen and they’re eating them nicely while their parents talk to each other. Like humans. I’m covered in the remnants of chocolate/vanilla sludge with bits of cone stuck to my wrists and there’s a huge drip down my HELLOOOO expensive purse!
I’m more of a cookie person.