It's the weekend. It's a hot day. My kids are splashing around in their paddle pool again. Fatty is gardening. I've slipped away to blog.
Something very weird just happened to me. I walked into our bedrooom, and accidentally kicked a backpack that I take to karate class. A maniacal laughing erupted from the backpack. It was a little startling, but I quickly reasssured myself...it's just that lion toy of Ben's that shrieks with laughter. One of our friends had given Benjamin a battery-powered, crazy lion that responds with hysterical mirth when shaken.
The problem is, the lion is not IN the backpack. It is not near the backpack. It is not behind the door. It is not under the bed. It could be in the cupboard. Now that I'm writing this, I realise I haven't looked there. But if there is no lion in the cupboard, you know what that means...........it means I don't have to wrestle with a giant cat when I want a pair of shoes, of course. It also means I have started imagining I hear laughing lions. There better be a lion when I look.
I have to cling to my sanity for at least another few hours. I cannot be sent to an institution just yet, because tonight I have a hot date. Yes, it hasn't happened for awhile, but this evening Fatty and I are going out to dinner just the two of us! We're going to a small but lovely restaurant just nearby. I have even bought a new summer dress in an attempt to impress. I can hardly wait.
We will be able to talk without a small child intervening with, " Do I have to eat ALL this broccoli?". We might even hold hands, without a chubby child body wedging itself jealously between us. We can order spicy foods, hard-to-manage foods, any foods we like. But best of all, I can gaze into Fatty's amazing green eyes and remember exactly why I love him so.
I'm now off to hunt for lions. Wish me luck