I’m a Crabby Patty

Let me be really frank with you. This post is less of a carefully crafted essay about the beauties and complexities of life, and more of a catalogue of real time incidents which have recently populated my days. Read on, if you wish, knowing beforehand that it is late on a Sunday following a frenetic weekend when I write this and I am quite (in the words of Charlie’s most beloved SpongeBob SquarePants) a crabby patty.

In the past week the following things have happened:

1) I enjoyed a lovely Mother’s Day, which included a delectable serving of strawberry shortcake at church (yes, please) and an afternoon nap courtesy of Jeff, who took over on kid-duty. When I awoke from my afternoon of leisure, he said that the following things occurred while I was sleeping: a) Charlie turned on the hose and made a muddy pond in the corner of the backyard, while b) Jack took off all his clothes and romped through the landscaping, all while c) our next-door neighbors enjoyed an al fresco Mother’s Day picnic on their patio. Jeff felt that if there had only been a couple of dueling banjos, the scene on our side of the fence would have complete.

2) Jeff and I shook things up by taking a weeknight date downtown to see a play. It. Was. Completely. Fabulous. Being transported to the 14th century and watching Cervantes’ tale of Don Quixote unfold onstage helped me remember that there is life outside of the repetitious routines which fill THIS season of my life. Hearing the man of La Mancha sing about dreaming the impossible dream and fighting the unbeatable foe surely resonated with my daily workload. Plus, we ate at my new favorite restaurant downtown which made the evening complete perfection.

3) Henry fractured his elbow and got a cast, which will come off during the first week of summer.

4) I read a completely marvelous book about English colonists in the Massachusetts Bay Colony and on Martha’s Vineyard in the 1660’s. It’s called Caleb’s Crossing and I found it to be a purely magical escape. Must read more books by Geraldine Brooks.

5) Saturday rolled around and Jack started the day by shattering a crystal goblet given to me by my mother-in-law. He dug it out of the back of a cupboard and smashed it on the floor, presumably just to put on a good show. As the day continued, he also broke my iron by plugging it in and melting a bunch of plastic packaging to it. He took several jars of spices from my baking cupboard and poured them in the KitchenAid mixer, which he then turned on to enjoy a lively spin cycle of steak seasoning and colored sprinkles. He disassembled the humidifier and dragged the parts around the house (one part was an unfortunate participant in a Code Brown–goodbye, humidifier). He disassembled the hair clippers, but not before he buzzed to the scalp a large section of the hair right off the top of his head. He ran away and made it around the corner and partway down the street next to ours, until our kindly neighbors Keri and Tyler came to the rescue and returned him home. This happened so quickly, we didn’t even know he was gone until they brought him back to us.

6) On a happy note, Jeff and I skedaddled out the door for our date with nary a look back Saturday night and saw a completely charming and sweet film full of aging Brits who outsource their retirement to Jaipur, India. We also had a really terrific pie and listened to some live music on the patio of one of favorite pizzerias. I’m not sure how to reconcile how great our date nights are with how just plain difficult things currently are at home. I’ve been waxing nostalgic for days in a prior life, when being at home meant peaceful times. Here’s hoping the pendulum doesn’t have to swing between such polarizing extremes for much longer.

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