You know exhaustion? Like the thorough, I'm gonna heave if I take three more steps, my eyebrows are hurting my cheek bones, my brain thinks in three word sentences and two of the words are ummm and uhhhh kind of tired. I'm feeling that tonight.
But since a girl can't go to bed right after she gets her kids down no matter how much she's draggin', after stuffing the kids with stories and I love yous all around, I did the next best thing to sleep when feeling utterly pooped and went straight for the freezer and the beckoning bag of chocolate chips. I grabbed me a mountain, a brown-pebbled, wide based, Himalayan monstrosity of chocolatty chippedness. I settled into the couch with my computer on one side and my luscious lumps of cocoa confection on the other ready to lose all my cares in a whoosh of glucose when the phone rang. It was my husband. Good enough. I mean great, really. Except the kids weren't asleep yet and they know who my late night caller is. Captain Kindergarten came out first.
"Who are you talking to Mom?" At first he was looking at my face and then, despite me leaning forward, regardless of me working my fancy mind tricks, 'this is not the pile of yumminess that you are looking for,' his eyes engaged my prize. And I knew it was over.
"Talk to your Dad first. Talk to your Dad first!" I tried to guard my own, my precious a little bit longer. Just as Captain Kindergarten finished talking Sidekick Sister and Little Linebacker came trotting in. They saw my booty before they even looked at the phone. I thrust the phone into their faces. I was desperate, so desperate to keep it all mine. Little Linebacker managed a "hew-o" and an "I wuv you," but he was saying it to the chocolate chips. I demanded that nobody touch a piece of my treasure until they were all done talking to their Dad and running back to their beds. Captain Kindergarten couldn't resist cupping his hands around the mound next to me while Sidekick Sister chatted and chatted and chatted some more with her Dad who couldn't get a word in edgewise. You know those irritating dogs that chase you down the street until they get you cozied up against a ditch and then they splay their front feet around yours, show you their upper gums, and growl. Yeah, that's pretty much what I did. The boy backed off my chocolate chips.
When Sidekick Sister was finally wheedled off the phone, I gave each child two chips and a threat against coming out of their room again. I settled more deeply into the couchy cushions of grumpiness. I wasn't anywhere near thrilled about giving up part of my sweet goodness to the interlopers. They all started obediently running back to their room when Sidekick Sister turned off course. She ran to the toys against my protests and grabbed out a purple, fluffy crown to wear on her head as she slept. Little Linebacker looped behind her ignoring my threats just as expertly and grabbed a wand that spins and glows when you touch a blue button. When he got it out, he turned his blond chubbiness to me, smiled like I was in on the fun, held up the wand and gave it a spin, then with a heavy footed, diaper jingling trot, he disappeared down the hall.
Sometimes you think you know exactly how things should be - but you're wrong. The purple crown and the diaper swish ended up being totally worth the six chocolate chips.
No comments:
Post a Comment