Today’s adventure in parenting started with a fun trip to the city with Boo. We got home late (it was already technically after bedtime and we hadn’t had dinner yet) and when we picked Hunk up from Papa’s, it looked like a storm was coming in. We loaded up into the car as quickly as possible as the raindrops started. I clearly hear Papa tell Boo, “make sure you help Mama when you get home”. His heart was in the right spot but I’m 99.99% sure he jinxed me. Add in the late hour and lack of food and it was a perfect storm for disaster.
What should have been a 5 minute drive home was doubled because the heavens opened up and it rained so hard that it was difficult to see the road. Pull up to the house and I make the executive decision to leave any and all non-essentials (including the 3 purses Boo had with her, the diaper bag and our souvenirs from the day) in the car. Got the kids unbuckled and they climbed in the front seat to hear the game plan. What was my fantastic game plan? Open the door, make a run for it, meet up on the steps. Ready? Break!
I open the door, jump out, and go to grab Boo. Who proceeds to scream like a Banshee when the first raindrop hits her and backs up further into the car. Now she’s crying, hysterical, and screaming about her penguin getting wet (what?!?), so I reach around her to get Hunk. What’s he doing? A sloth impression from what I can tell. Moving like he is in slow-motion and unconcerned that his loving mother is standing the the pouring down rain while he tries to figure out just why his big sister is losing her ever-loving mind.
What is a hungry, tired, and soaked mama to do at this point? Put my keys between my teeth, grab the screaming banshee with one arm, and the confused sloth with the other, close the car door with my butt (thank the Lord he gave me a little extra junk in the trunk for moments like these) and make a run for it. Except I didn’t think of the gate on our fence. The one standing between me and the back door. Normally, I’d have a kid reach down and open it but neither are in the mood to be helpful so I have to put them both down (which somehow, unbelievably, increases the screaming), open the gate, pick them up, move them inside the yard, put them back down, shut the gate, pick them back up and continue running to the house. Although at this point there was no point in running because we were all soaked through. But I gave it my best effort, just in case there was a dry spot on us.
Finally get inside to discover that Boo decided, without consulting with me, that her pink penguin stuffed animal HAD to come inside with us and she was worried about it getting wet. Which it obviously did because there was a typhoon outside. Apparently pink penguins are allergic to water, who knew? Get her a towel for the penguin and she starts to calm down. What is my little sloth doing? Having the time of his life, ice-skating on the wooden floors in his wet socks with a huge smile on his face.
What an adventure!