Sunday, November 13, 2011

Cinema and Swimin' a.

So, yeah, it's been a week or so. Here's the update. Turns out I've been home now about nine days. I've got another day off from work but I'm not so sure I can handle one more. So, here's the deal. The other day, after we sent the big kids to school, I invited my mom to watch Baby Sammy and Stacey, Olivia, and I would head to the show for a matinae and watch, "Puss in Boots." Well it started out as a good idea. About the time mom got here we were already late for the show. No fault of my mom's, just that the first available show was a short fuze and the next one would have required us to find someone to receive the big kids from the bus. Believe me, you dont want that. When three of those kids get off the bus and touch down it can be downright frightening.

Anyhow, so we got to the show and Olivia and Stacey went to occupy our seats and I arrived late in the pitch black not sure which seats they were in. "Marco......?" So, after spending 15 bucks for a small popcorn, fifty cents worth of nacho chips and 25 cents worth of cheese and a small bottled water we were off and runnin'. Well, Olivia watched about the first seven minutes of the show and then lost all interest. We pretty much spent the rest of the time talking her into her booster seat, keeping her from smashing into the seats and people in front of us, and working on our inside voices. I tell you. It's harder to take Olivia to a movie than it is to get all seven of us to church.

So, then...what else....hmmm I lost my train of thought....oh yeah, swimming. THEN as if I couldnt get any dumber, yesterday I thought it would be a great idea to take Olivia, Isabelle, and Lexi to the Rec Center to swim. I took them all about three weeks ago, and I had Josh along. It wasn't bad because everyone had someone to play with, even me. But odd numbers produce odd results. So, this time, I spent less time trying to keep putty in Olivia's ears and more time trying to talk her into the floatation vest. I tell you what, shoes, coats, pants and life vests are just non-starters for Olivia. You want to talk about a fit??? Wow. Anyhow, after sitting on the edge of the wading pool looking more conspicuous than a catholic priest at a boyscout outing, we finally left.

So I tell the two big girls to take the bag and go into the girls' locker room and do their thing and meet me on the other side. The bag of course, has the keys to the truck as well as my sanity, because immediately upon our parting ways, Olivia through a complete fit and had a melt-down in the locker room. She was NOT about to have me take her swimsuit off and most certainly would NOT wash off. Well at this point I realized also my spare pair of Underoos were in the same bag that the girls had, and I was going to have to go Commando out of their in regular workout shorts and without a shirt. But I did have this swell looking hunting camo style pullover.

So, from thence, I walked out into the waiting area and Olivia again noticed people in the water having fun and began melt-down numero dos. So, I get over to the door of the girl's locker room and for the next 25 minutes yell like an idiot into it that I am serious they need to hurry up and get out here. So, seriously, 48 minutes after we split ways, the girls finally erupted out of the locker room, finally with the bag and our ticket to sanity. By then the snow was going at a 45 degree angle from the East and Olivia refused to put on shoes, or a now wet coat from the swim bag. So, with me, running commando and carrying the now squirming and inconsolable toddler while pushing two girls out the door in a rush to the North 40 of the rec center in the snow I realized I am in point of fact NOT Fred McMurray...and father certainly dont know best.

I gotta go. We're getting Sam's coat on and everyone's getting head-up for the festivities at church. Cover my six while we move. I'm leaving my concealed carry here because I know my Sunbeams will force me to remove my jacket and I'll have no way to explain the bulge in my lower back nor the handle of my 9mm. Plus, the kids dont understand the threat of a good pistol-whipping so I just leave it home now. And I think it's the law, I'm not sure, I have to research that.

Anyhow, hope you laughed a little, Lord knows if you dont laugh you'll cry.

All the best to you and your'en.

Always,

J

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