As I do on most Monday mornings (my day off) I lay in bed while everyone gets ready for the day. Mind you, I'm not asleep; that usually ends around 6 when Trot bounds down the stairs wanting his daily piece of cheese.
No, I lay there with a pillow over my head trying to drown out the random chaos going on while occasionally contributing the always popular "Get off the dresser!" or "Rakes, put your clothes on; you've got to leave in 15 seconds!" from underneath the covers.
Today was a typical morning. Ciera was panicking her Mom wouldn't do her hair in time, Rakes and Trot were engaged in one of their classic discussions (this morning it was why Patrick the Star on Sponge Bob doesn't have a jimmy) and Angie furiously tried to get ready, making roughly 179 trips from the garage to the kitchen before finally leaving. (I have no idea what she kept coming back to get; she drives a van, not an oil tanker.)
Finally, I heard her van start up and immediately I switched to "I've got 30 minutes to sleep before I have to get up and take Trot to school" mode when I suddenly heard her panicked cry of "Oh Rakes! What are you DOING?" followed by "RAKES!!! WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!?!"
Naturally I'm still pretending to be asleep but my mind is racing; he's scratched his name on the car with a rock or he's taken off his pants and is running commando style down the street or he's finally finished the time machine he's been building with the wagon and my golf clubs; at this point it's a toss up.
2 seconds later Ang is stomping through the door and I get my answer; he put his book bag, with his lunch in it, right in front of the driver's side tire on the van and Ang ran over it.
You've never seen a bag of potato chips, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a bag of Gummies and a carton of Yogurt quite like it.
And I'm Married.
With Children.And I wouldn't have it any other way.
However, it would REALLY help if Opening Day would just hurry up and get here.