I left the house and drove to a movie theater and saw a movie of my own choosing without regard for the wishes of any other. I did not have to pause the movie to change a poopy diaper or shush a child or nurse a child or answer the phone or interrupt my movie enjoyment in any way. I even drove there and back in perfect silence. It was bliss.
Hubby stayed home with the kids. As I drove out of the driveway he was perched on the top stair to our house with our three children and every other child who lives in our cul de sac surrounding him. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
When he finally couldn't stand it anymore Hubby took our kids inside. The neighborhood children remained playing in our driveway with our kids' toys. He told them to go home. Within minutes the Peripatetic Neighbor Boy (he's four) returned and let himself into our house. Hubby told him to leave.
PNB: Uh. Mr. Hubby?
Hubby: I didn't go to Frickin' Evil Chiropractic School to be called Mister. That's Doctor Hubby to you!
PNB told him a meandering story about how he was running (with Gabe's toy which he took out of our garage and broke) and fell and hurt his arm and how he needed medicine on it. Hubby told him in no uncertain terms that we don't do medicine here. Hubby told him to go home, again.
PNB: But I don't have to go home.
Hubby: (Hair raising on the back of his neck) I told you to go home, and you will go home.
A half hour later PNB let himself in again.
Hubby: PNB, why are you here? Go home. And don't just barge into my house. It's polite to knock first.
PNB: I am looking for my shoes.
Hubby: I gave them to you when you left three times ago.
PNB: But I think they are here.
Hubby: You sit right here (indicating foyer steps) and wait while I look.
Exit Hubby.
Enter Gabe with a coveted "Juice Bar" (a popsicle like snack).
Enter Hubby.
Hubby: PNB, your shoes are not here.
PNB: I think you should invite me to have a juice bar now because I did just what you told me to and waited right here.
Hubby: No. Go home now.
Poor Hubby. He spent two and a half hours with the children (plus PNB) and aged four years. And the house is a mess again. Sigh.
1 comment:
I should say, in his defence, PNB is a nice enough kid, just an only child and also a bit "high strung". My kids are also a bit spastic at times and I don't doubt that they also terrorize the neighborhood at times. But they are ours, and we love them.
Post a Comment