Monday afternoon, it was about 5:45 and starting to get cold, so I was building a fire in our lovely little wood stove when my husband walked in. Surprised, I looked at him and asked, "Wow! How come you're home so early?"
"Well," he replied, "Since I have a week of PTO coming up, and we're planning on using that time to landscape, I thought we could go get some of the supplies for landscaping tonight, for Home Evening. What do you think?"
I was on board with that, so I ditched the fire (I am becoming a master fire-builder, by the way) and set about getting the kids ready to go as Steve went and gathered up all of the information he needed for the supplies we were going to get. As time went on, however, Steve realized that he had left a few of the calculations on how much timber we needed for landscaping at work, so he started measuring those up again as I tried to keep Jack busy looking for his shoes.
As it started getting later and later, I found that we were getting more and more stressed. By the time we finally left our house, it was already 7:30 (the store closes at 9:00, and it's a half-hour's drive away), and we were starting to feel a little on edge.
We got to my parent's house in order to borrow their truck, and I ran inside to get the keys while Steve swapped the car seats over. I came out to find him stressed out--"Jewel, Jack's car seat won't fit in the back. The seat's too small."
Clark was starting to get fussy, and by this point, I was a little cranky. "Fine. You go to the store, and I'll take the kids home."
"But that's not nearly as fun!" Steve began to protest. "What if you drive the Honda behind me?"
"Really?" I began.
"Or--you could just take our van and put the wood in the back," my dad suggested gently.
Steve and I both looked at each other, realized that that was a brilliant idea, and popped the kids in the van and headed to Lowe's. On the way, we decided that we could still make this a fun evening, so we tried to de-stress and enjoy spending this time with Hurricane Jack strapped down and unable to do too much damage.
Once we got there, we realized that it was a half hour before closing time, so we tried to hurry. We needed a lot of wood (we're using landscaping logs to do a raised bed garden, as well as some flower beds, so we needed 38 logs, plus some wood for a chicken coop), so we ended up with two of those huge carts full of wood, plus a regular shopping cart for me to cart the kids around in. By the time we got to the check-out, I had an inch-long splinter in my middle finger (I'm not exaggerating. I measured it cause I'm mature like that), Clark was starting to get a little fussy, and it was 5 minutes past closing, so we were ready to load up the van and go home.
Luckily, the cashier was wonderful, and offered to help us load up the van, so I could go sit in the front seat and nurse Clark.
As I nursed Clark, I could hear Steve and Lizzie (that was the cashier's name) loading up the van in the cold--everything seemed to be going fine, until they tried putting the plywood in the back of the van.
"Uh--Jewel? Can you come back here and maybe open the doors wider so we can get a better angle?"
"Sure!" I unlatched Clark, put him in his carseat, and hustled back there. "Okay--now try it."
Still no good. After some rearranging and a few more tries, we realized something: the back doors were too narrow to fit a sheet of plywood through them.
Shoot.
So, I sheepishly called my brother and asked him if he would be willing to drive his pickup all the way up to come take the plywood home. He willingly agreed, and so we said good-bye to Lizzie (by this point, it was already 9:45--waaay past closing time), and decided to huddle up in the van.
We dug through the diaper bag and found some old cereal that I had packed in there probably a few months ago as a snack for Jack, gave that to him, and then waited, grinning and waving sheepishly as all the Lowe's employees headed out to their vehicles.
Surprisingly enough, we were all in good moods by this point--Jack was having fun playing with his toys, Steve was okay playing with Clark, and although I was hungry, I was doing all right.
My brother and dad showed up at around 10:20, loaded the plywood in the back of the truck, and agreed to meet us at home.
We decided to stop at Wendy's on the way home so we could silence the monster growling in my tummy, but when we got to the drive-through, although the sign said that they were open till 11 and there were people inside, they were obviously cleaning up and ignored us completely. Feeling somewhat disgruntled, we passed a few more closed fast-food restaurants (cursing small towns under our breath the entire time) before we came across a McDonald's that was still open. Victory!
Jack fell asleep halfway through his McDouble, and Steve and I, now with full bellies, laughed about the ridiculousness of the situation we were in. We got home, I put both boys to bed while the menfolk unloaded the van and pickup, and then Steve headed over to my parent's to pick up our Honda while I started getting ready for bed.
About 10 minutes after he left, I got a phone call.
"Jewel?"
"Yeah?"
"Your dad and Noah just went inside, but I think my keys are in the diaper bag--which is on the kitchen counter."
I looked through said bag, and yes, indeed, there they were, shining innocently up at me. Thinking fast, I came up with a solution. "Okay. The boys are both asleep, so I'll put my phone on speaker and leave it on the dresser in Clark's room, then run in the other car and bring you the keys. It'll be like a long-distance baby monitor. Sound good?"
"All right."
So, I ran out into the middle of the night in my jammies, drove like a madwoman (although still keeping to the speed limit--last thing I needed was to get pulled over and try to explain to a cop why my two children were at home alone) to my parents', where Steve ran over, grabbed the keys I handed to him, and then drove home, praying the entire time.
We got home, all was well, and then we went to bed. I was ready for that day to be over.
"Well," he replied, "Since I have a week of PTO coming up, and we're planning on using that time to landscape, I thought we could go get some of the supplies for landscaping tonight, for Home Evening. What do you think?"
I was on board with that, so I ditched the fire (I am becoming a master fire-builder, by the way) and set about getting the kids ready to go as Steve went and gathered up all of the information he needed for the supplies we were going to get. As time went on, however, Steve realized that he had left a few of the calculations on how much timber we needed for landscaping at work, so he started measuring those up again as I tried to keep Jack busy looking for his shoes.
As it started getting later and later, I found that we were getting more and more stressed. By the time we finally left our house, it was already 7:30 (the store closes at 9:00, and it's a half-hour's drive away), and we were starting to feel a little on edge.
We got to my parent's house in order to borrow their truck, and I ran inside to get the keys while Steve swapped the car seats over. I came out to find him stressed out--"Jewel, Jack's car seat won't fit in the back. The seat's too small."
Clark was starting to get fussy, and by this point, I was a little cranky. "Fine. You go to the store, and I'll take the kids home."
"But that's not nearly as fun!" Steve began to protest. "What if you drive the Honda behind me?"
"Really?" I began.
"Or--you could just take our van and put the wood in the back," my dad suggested gently.
Steve and I both looked at each other, realized that that was a brilliant idea, and popped the kids in the van and headed to Lowe's. On the way, we decided that we could still make this a fun evening, so we tried to de-stress and enjoy spending this time with Hurricane Jack strapped down and unable to do too much damage.
Once we got there, we realized that it was a half hour before closing time, so we tried to hurry. We needed a lot of wood (we're using landscaping logs to do a raised bed garden, as well as some flower beds, so we needed 38 logs, plus some wood for a chicken coop), so we ended up with two of those huge carts full of wood, plus a regular shopping cart for me to cart the kids around in. By the time we got to the check-out, I had an inch-long splinter in my middle finger (I'm not exaggerating. I measured it cause I'm mature like that), Clark was starting to get a little fussy, and it was 5 minutes past closing, so we were ready to load up the van and go home.
Luckily, the cashier was wonderful, and offered to help us load up the van, so I could go sit in the front seat and nurse Clark.
As I nursed Clark, I could hear Steve and Lizzie (that was the cashier's name) loading up the van in the cold--everything seemed to be going fine, until they tried putting the plywood in the back of the van.
"Uh--Jewel? Can you come back here and maybe open the doors wider so we can get a better angle?"
"Sure!" I unlatched Clark, put him in his carseat, and hustled back there. "Okay--now try it."
Still no good. After some rearranging and a few more tries, we realized something: the back doors were too narrow to fit a sheet of plywood through them.
Shoot.
So, I sheepishly called my brother and asked him if he would be willing to drive his pickup all the way up to come take the plywood home. He willingly agreed, and so we said good-bye to Lizzie (by this point, it was already 9:45--waaay past closing time), and decided to huddle up in the van.
We dug through the diaper bag and found some old cereal that I had packed in there probably a few months ago as a snack for Jack, gave that to him, and then waited, grinning and waving sheepishly as all the Lowe's employees headed out to their vehicles.
Surprisingly enough, we were all in good moods by this point--Jack was having fun playing with his toys, Steve was okay playing with Clark, and although I was hungry, I was doing all right.
My brother and dad showed up at around 10:20, loaded the plywood in the back of the truck, and agreed to meet us at home.
We decided to stop at Wendy's on the way home so we could silence the monster growling in my tummy, but when we got to the drive-through, although the sign said that they were open till 11 and there were people inside, they were obviously cleaning up and ignored us completely. Feeling somewhat disgruntled, we passed a few more closed fast-food restaurants (cursing small towns under our breath the entire time) before we came across a McDonald's that was still open. Victory!
Jack fell asleep halfway through his McDouble, and Steve and I, now with full bellies, laughed about the ridiculousness of the situation we were in. We got home, I put both boys to bed while the menfolk unloaded the van and pickup, and then Steve headed over to my parent's to pick up our Honda while I started getting ready for bed.
About 10 minutes after he left, I got a phone call.
"Jewel?"
"Yeah?"
"Your dad and Noah just went inside, but I think my keys are in the diaper bag--which is on the kitchen counter."
I looked through said bag, and yes, indeed, there they were, shining innocently up at me. Thinking fast, I came up with a solution. "Okay. The boys are both asleep, so I'll put my phone on speaker and leave it on the dresser in Clark's room, then run in the other car and bring you the keys. It'll be like a long-distance baby monitor. Sound good?"
"All right."
So, I ran out into the middle of the night in my jammies, drove like a madwoman (although still keeping to the speed limit--last thing I needed was to get pulled over and try to explain to a cop why my two children were at home alone) to my parents', where Steve ran over, grabbed the keys I handed to him, and then drove home, praying the entire time.
We got home, all was well, and then we went to bed. I was ready for that day to be over.
Comments
I totally love hearing narratives of this sort and am really glad you took the time to write it for my entertainment. (You just have a blog for me, right?)
Also, I adore that you measured the splinter.
Love your long distance baby monitor. I was so glad the night is over and everyone is safe. And thanks for the good laugh!
So funny!