~ 10:08 a.m ~
"Why do we have to take Daddy to work?"
"Because I have a dentist appointment."
~ 10:29 a.m. ~
"Mommy, where are we going again?"
"For the third time...we're going to my dentist's office. I have an appointment!"
~ 10:35 a.m. ~
"Is he nice?" (Large Fry)
"Yes, I think so. I really like him. That's why he's still my dentist."
"Then I'll hug him." (Large Fry)
~ 10:58 a.m. ~
"Do I have to go in there?" (Large Fry)
"No! For at least the fourth time this morning, I have an appointment!!!"
~ 11:17 a.m. ~
"Can we get a candy?"
"No. First of all, this is a dentist's office. Second, this was my appointment. You don't get a reward if it's not your appointment."
~ 11:35 a.m. ~
Medium has her Bible, and she's sounding out the names of the books.
"Mommy?" Large Fry pipes up. "Is it Palms or Salms?"
"Salms. The P is silent."
"Is it Proverbs or Roverbs?"
~ 11:40 a.m. ~
I demand that everybody stop talking and squabbling and mock-fighting and nearly throwing things in the back of the van, because I just got diverted off SR 316 (the way I know how to get home) and onto another for no explicable reason. But there were flares and cars with flashing lights and I wasn't allowed to go the way I know.
And if you know me at all, you know that I am seriously directionally challenged, I could get lost inside a paper bag if you closed up the end of it, and whatever direction I'm facing is north.
Thankfully, the van has a compass display, and I know what direction I generally need to be headed in to get home.
Doubly thankfully, I figured out months ago how to recalibrate the compass when it got stuck in Auntie J-mode and every direction was north.
I am exceptionally pleased to report that I not only got myself back on SR 316 without a whole lot of trouble, but I also didn't need to pull over into a driveway or parking lot or skimpy shoulder of the road and start Waze to figure out how to get home.
~ 11:52 a.m. ~
"We need to stop for food on the way home. I'm hungry." (Large Fry)
~3:52 p.m. ~
"Why do we need socks?"
"Because we have to go get Daddy."
"Why do we have to go get him?"
"Because we do."
~ 4:03 p.m. ~
"So, how was your day?"
I gave Hubby a sidelong look that clarified just how long a day it had been.
"That good, huh?"
Yeah. Dentist appointment, squabbling kids, kids who didn't want to do chores, lots of driving, lots of cold...lots of achy.
~ 6:47 p.m. ~
We'd decided to go out to eat. However, little burg that we live in, lots of places close early on holidays. Our first two choices were closed, or nearly so.
Large Fry: "Are we going to go eat somewhere?"
"Where are we going to go eat?"
"I don't know."
"Are we gonna go eat somewhere?"
We'd settled on Denny's when the kids started chanting "Denny's! Denny's Denny's!"
~ 8:00 p.m. ~
Large Fry: "You know, Daddy, if you take us to get ice cream, you can pick first!"
I glanced at the dash display on the van as I sat shivering in my seat, pulling the seat belt buckle across me with mitten-clad fingers. Twenty-five freaking degrees. "No!"
"So, no Sonic then?" Hubby asks me quietly.
"I don't care." (I really didn't.) I shivered some more. "Freaks and sadists," I grumbled. "Ice cream when it's sub-freezing out. Insanity."
Hubby was grinning as I looked over at him.
"Holy cow, I'm old!" I shouted.
My father was kind enough not to laugh at me when I texted him the story.
~ 8:50 p.m. ~
I had the realization that, less than ten minutes after midnight tonight, Hubby and I will have been together 20 years.