We brought cookies to school and then brought home empty boxes afterwards.
We went to three different places to find him a fish (which sucked, because I thought ALL places had fish and apparently there was a fish SHORTAGE at the one place where we go for all pet needs, and an explosion of road construction in front of the other fish place which was closer, but a perfectly respectable wall of betas at the third place.)
We stopped and picked up a cake and ice so we could take the ice cream cake with us to bowling and then it wouldn’t be melted by the time it was ready for dinner.
We got home and set up the fish in a corner, where we can do our homework and see the fish!
We named the fish Greg, for Diary of a Wimpy Kid.
We went to dinner at Wongs.
We fell asleep at nine-thirty, after trying to finish our homework in our new fish corner.
We were grateful.
Of course when I woke up this morning, we were LATE! Our dumb car is not starting these days. mate has bought the part to fix it, but finding the time to install it? Not so easy. So there was that. There was me, in my pajamas, checking the kids into school. Late.
There was me, in my pajamas, looking at the sky and going, “Oh, please rain, please rain, please rain, because if it rains I don’t have to feel guilty for not going to aqua!”
And then there was me, turning on the wiper blades, and going, “OH SHIT!” Because Mate, who is a good mate, went to replace my old wiper blades. Unbeknownst to him, the wiper blades that fit ALL minivans, do NOT fit ours. Ours is SPESHUL. Anyway, so there was me, in my pajamas still, going, “Please don’t rain, please don’t rain, please don’t rain!” while I ran to the auto parts store to get new wipers.
The funniest part? Well, there I was, in my pajamas and mismatched hand warmers (because I can never keep track of a pair and I’ve given up trying!) and my fuzzy hair and my morning eyes, trying to get more wiper blades.
The auto parts guy was skeptical. “Here. Let me see them,” he said. So we went out to the car and I turned on the wipers and the clashed in the middle and broke the one on the right further because they’re too long.
Now this guy is in his thirties, and cute. He’s got a bamf tatt covered by his long sleeved shirt, and while he’s got short, buzz cut hair, you just know he’s a badass, right?
So I turn on the car and the wipers clash and his eyes get big, and he says, “That is just frickin’ odd.”
Which is only hysterical when you KNOW what he was DYING to say was “That is just fucked up.”
And thereyago. HelLO plotbunny. Damn, those frickin’ odd wipers have done me a lot of service this way!
Happy weekend, everybody– I plan to see the end of this soccer season off with two soccer banquets and our last two games. Canyagimmehallelujah? I knewyacouldamen!