Tuesday, April 27, 2004

Argaloo.

I do this thing every weekday about 530. I start looking at the clock and wondering when Jay will be home. I call him on his cell and cross my fingers that he will be on the road, on the way, done work, coming HOME.

And sometimes he is. But lots of times it ain't happening. Like today, for instance. The four to six thing is as usual, Monty keeps trying to go outside to play with Sam and the boys. Sam keeps coming in to get something or other but it is never what he wants so he blames me, somehow, for either not helping him find it when I am trying to make dinner or for just being a living breathing person in his way, who won't let him bring out five glasses of milk and a big bag of chips for all his friends. And usually Luce is having a bit of a bird at that time too, although she is an angel baby. And then Monty is bursting into tears every five minutes because he is tired and it's a cruel cruel world when you can't get your leg into your underwear or whatever. So I keep reaching for the phone to call Jay. And getting the ANSWErING machine. And I am dying. Forget about the crescent rolls in the oven so they burn. Monty runs by L and knocks her flying so she starts bawling. Then I yell way loud at Monty so he starts bawling. Then I am sitting on the kitchen floor with both of them on my lap and the smell of burnt crescent rolls floating in the air and Sam comes in crying because his beyblade broke. I reach for the phone again and dial the number. Jay answers, apologetically, that he is in the shop still working and will be late. I am flat-toned susie. "Okay. Bye."

Man. It's like, where's the booze. So I get everyone straightened out and make them eat (close your mouth, Sam. Sam. Close your mouth when you are-Sam. Close your mouth bud. Hey, yourmouthclose yourmouthpleaseits sorudewhenyouareeating youhavetocloseyourmouth. Sam.) and pick up all the strands of spagetti that have distributed themselves sporadically about the room and forget the dishes and come up here and blog about it.

And now momma's five mins is UP because I hear the fighting irish down there and I need to go referee. But at least I had a reprieve. AND it is one blessed half hour till BEDTIME for MONTY. And because Jay is late I simply CANT go to pilates! I am gonna go and help sam write some letter to his principal about recycling. And Later, I am gonna watch Kill Bill with Jay.

If he gets home before ten, that is.

Syanara.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home