Last weekend, Steve and the oldest three boys abandoned me for this:
Purple Mountain Majesty...
Soaring Ski Slopes...
Crystal Capped Conifers...
Fabulous Frosty Family Fun.
After sulking for about 3 hours over my morning coffee because me and my side-kick Henry were each too big and too small to go on the ski trip, I started to imagine my 3 little men rolling into snowballs at uncontrollable speeds down the mountain. Then, I began to freak out. From sulking to freaking, the emotions were just too much. Searching for a brown paper sack to control the current hyperventilative state, I started praying with fury that the boys' guardian angels would rescue them from any potential painful encounters with trees, cliff edges or other skiers. The sulking subsided, my little Henry awoke, so we watched the news over waffles and OJ.
I agree. The news is often a real nail-biter. All in favor of Tom and Jerry say "I."
Even though there's an ice warning outside, should we defy the weather man and go seek out our own fun??
Absolutely!!! Let's shake off our blankies and roll outta this cave!
Some species of Iguana. I like his funky striped tail and the tracks he makes in the sand. Kind of like the tracks my rebels are making right now with their skis in the sparkling fluffy white snow. More sulking.
"Whada you lookin' at, huh?" (I told ya he was feisty!)
Now about that hunger....where should we go for lunch Henry?? What's that you say, McDonald's?? (gasp). Um, ok, McDonald's kind of sends me into freak out mode (again) but, for you, my love, on this cold, icy day, I'll do anything.
Do not try this at home. Only at McDonald's play land.
How dare you fake-nap in front of the sleep deprived pregnant lady?? Don't give me "tired", young man. Napping is no joking matter. Can we eat now??
Hamburger = sniffed and rejected.
Fries = two partially nibbled. Leftovers staring at mom in temptation.
Toy = broken.
Box re-purposed into a super rad red helmet = PRICELESS!!! (He gets his re-purpose/recycle skills from Moi. Such a smart boy.)
And, the helmet, the prize crown of the ruler of McDonald's playland, was the headdress of choice for the remainder of the day. The post-office. Target. Home Depot. Oh, the looks. The attention.
I'm cold. Let's go back to our cave. Hot chocolate with whipped cream and sprinkles anyone???
"Step away from the chocolaty frothy goodness, mama." Boys are sooooo territorial. Sheesh!