I would estimate that towels my daughters have used once and then thrown on the ground constitute around 530% of the laundry we do every week.
I’m a little concerned about how tomorrow morning is going to go.
Jennifer is home tomorrow, which means she gets to run morning routine. And that’s cool and all, but it’s kind of inevitable that the girls will ask if they can have leftover birthday cake for breakfast. Jennifer will laugh and say “NO! Where did you get such silly an idea?” And that point the girls will tell here about what we had today for breakfast.
So you can see why I am worried.
Putting the girls to sleep, Kathleen is complaining about her knee, which she banged into the couch earlier.
Kathleen: “Dad, you need to get me a band-aid.”
Me: “A band aid won’t help”
Kathleen: “Then what will?”
Me: “Time. You know, Ben Franklin once wrote ‘Time is an herb that cures all diseases.'”
Kathleen: “No. Time is a thief that steals all your loved ones.'”
Me: “Good Lord little girl!?!?!?”
Where was it that I was supposed to have learned how to deal with moments like this?
It was cool this morning, probably in the low forties as we headed to the car to get the girls to school. But at the last minute I remembered that I hadn’t put out the recycled materials for trash pickup. So, as the girls climbed into the back seat of the car, I went back, opened the front door of the house, pulled the blue recycle bag out, and took it to the curb.
Finally, after going back and locking the front door again, I climbed into the driver seat of my car.
From the back seat, whispering … then in unison two voices:
“Let it go, let it go
Turn away and slam the door
I don’t care
what they’re going to say
Let the storm rage on.
The cold never bothered me anyway.”
“Very subtle girls,” I said, as I flipped on the heater.
Forget them needing therapy. I’m going to need therapy by the time they are done with me.
While Lucy was at gymnastics, Kathleen and I went to put gas in my car. Checking out, she convinced me to get her a two pack of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, and I got a Snickers.
After sneaking our snacks into the gym with us, I told her: “Now, you know we can’t tell Lucy about this. She might be jealous.”
Kathleen responded: “Don’t worry. I know the drill. Mommy and I always get candy together, and we aren’t supposed to tell anyone about it.”
Jennifer Carnahan, I’m putting you on notice!
I regret to announce that at gymnastics tonight, Lucy broke herself. Doctors assure us that if we can bend her legs back into a normal human position, she could walk again.