I have not written in my blog in awhile. My coworker has asked me a couple times when I was going to update it. And the truth is, I just have not had anything to write about. And then today happened.
I had already had a full day at work by the time I arrived at the school to pick up Brady. He came flying out and I was all ready to tell him, no, we would not play at the park as it had not made it out of the 30s today, when he surprised me by asking if his friend could come over. I agreed and 20 minutes and one lost-then-found Sullivan later, his friend’s mom and I sat in the chaotic whirlwind that is five boys age 7 and under that are all way too excited over an impromptu play date. Within five minutes there were no less than 10 wads of wet paper towel stuck to my ceiling.
I probably could write an entire blog about the hour that they were here, but I think the highlight was when Brady ran through the living room completely naked. Three times. When I explained to him that it was not funny, he asked me, innocently, why everyone was laughing if it was not funny. I am wondering if they make a card that says, “I know you have only been to my house twice, but it is usually a lot cleaner and we almost always keep our clothes on.”
No sooner had they left and I pulled out the pork chops to cook dinner, an unfamiliar car pulled into the driveway. It turned out to be the contractor that is putting in the bathroom in the basement. I had completely forgotten that he was coming over tonight to go over the job. I apologized profusely as I kicked clothes, shoes, and balls out of his way.
As his visit stretched on, I nixed the pork chop idea and sent Mark a text that read, “Meet us for dinner anywhere but here.” As the gentleman was finishing up, I hollered to the boys to get on their shoes so we could meet Dad for dinner.
“We already have them on, Mom,” I heard Brady yell. But it did not sound right. I ran up the basement stairs to find him and Colin outside and Sullivan climbing out the bedroom window.
“What are you doing?” I shouted.
Brady explained to me that he ran a fire drill, just like we talked about. He helped Colin out the window, went out himself, and they ran to Mr. Jeff’s to tell him to call 911.
“Okay, so Mr. Jeff is not really calling 911 is he?” I asked, slightly amused.
No, thankfully, Mr. Jeff was not outside at the time of the drill.
“You like that we practiced a fire drill and it shows on your face!” he said, delighted.
“Oh, really?” I asked, “What’s my face look like?”
“Like you are frustrated, happy, and surprised,” he said.
Yep, he nailed it.
As we drove to the restaurant, I explained to Brady that Colin cannot be outside without an adult and that I was not expecting him to run a fire drill.
“But mom,” he said, “It’s safety, and safety things are ALWAYS unexpected.”
Touché, child, touché.