Around two-thirty, I picked up Benji. Good report at school. (This means, he hadn't hit anyone.) Bonus. You think I'm kidding. I'm not.
I drive towards the elementary school. I listen intently as Benji sang nonsense nonstop as we jettisoned toward the carpool lane. My friend Manny likes to call me "super carpool mom." I'm not sure if it's an insult or a compliment, but it is what it is. No, I don't wear a tie.
I scoop up one kiddo. Immediately the annoyance began. Channel changing. Screaming. Whines. Punches. Did I mention that around Drew, Benji ONLY speaks "Whinese" and it DRIVES... ME... BAT... SHIT... CRAZY! He doesn't even know how to carry a proper conversational tone, he only whines... Drew loves this. I think they're trying to send me to the psycho ward... then they'll start on their father and eventually take over the world one Pokemon card at a time!
And then it happens. Just as soon as Drew plants his glutes in the seat, I get, "What's for dinner?"
It's 3:00 p.m. and he's asking me what's for dinner.
If you know me, not that you do, but if you did, you know that I'm a planner. You would think I would have a plan. Usually, I have a plan. This week, I don't. I mean, I didn't get the title "super carpool mom" for nothin'!
You know, something else... EVERY.SINGLE.NIGHT. before bed -- EVERY NIGHT -- he asks me what's for breakfast. It wouldn't be such an issue but if I have to wake him up in the morning because he just happens to wake up, walk across the room, shut off his alarm, get back in bed, and go back to sleep..... he asks me again. I'm thinking it's one of those things that he's just in the habit of saying so he just asks it.
I know that I should be the good June Cleaver mom (showing my age here, aren't I? If you don't know who she is, you're young... enjoy it!) So, I should be the doting, ever patient, matriarch who answers lovingly, "Why dear, you know, I just haven't decided yet. Why not get a good night's sleep and the delicious aromas will waft up the stairs in the morning and awaken you from your peaceful slumber."
But I'm like... "Dude, I don't know.... go to bed. MUAH! Night!"
So, this afternoon when he asks me what's for dinner, I just give him the "Are you serious, Clark?" look and continue driving to the middle school to scoop up one of our carpool kiddos and head for home. If you don't know the "You serious, Clark?" look... refresh your memory. It's a constant source of laughter in our home.
On the way home, he asks again about dinner and so I tell him that because he has baseball practice, it's nothing fancy: sausage, Halloween mac and cheese, pears, cucumbers, fresh cornbread. That seems to satisfy his curiosity - for the moment.
Detox for about an hour and then head back to the school to scoop up an athlete. He hobbles out wearing a bag of ice on his hip. Nice. I could write an entire dissertation on why I think high school pushing athletes to compete, run and go all out when they're clearly injured is STUPID, but that's a rant for another day. Some things you can't "push through" because HEY JACKASS... MY SON IS HURT. But yeah. I won't go there right now. They don't care. I do. They don't. Grrrrrr
I do get to exchange pleasantries with one of my best friends, Jennifer, and give her a hug before her surgery (taking place today). That was one of the best parts of the day. Truth!
I drop off an extra athlete at his home (mom favors, we are all awesome!), head to the house and give Drew exactly 6 minutes to get ready for baseball practice. Benji decides HE wants to go and starts putting on his shoes... without socks... on the wrong feet.
When I explain that he won't get to stay and play because he needs a good night's sleep ... much to his chagrin... because his Halloween party was the next at school, he promptly threw his shoes in the pile and declared he was staying home with Josh.
(Oh, hey, Josh, watch Benji for me while I run Drew to practice! Mkay? Mkay!)
Drew is my source of ADD randomness. The man-child is Cliff Claven incarnate (again, if you don't know Cliff, your childhood must have sucked).
As we are driving down the road to baseball practice he asks me, "Mom, you know how you said earlier you were going to make Halloween macaroni and cheese?"
"Yes?' I reply.
"How do you make **Halloween** macaroni and cheese?" (major emphasis on the Halloween)
"Ummm.... like I always make your macaroni and cheese."
"What makes it Halloween macaroni and cheese? What do you put in it?"
Finally understanding where he's coming from, I tell him that it's just regular macaroni and cheese but the pasta is shaped like ghosts and pumpkins and stuff. Then I ask, "Why? What did you think that Halloween macaroni and cheese was?"
"I thought you'd put stuff in it."
"Like what? What would you put in macaroni and cheese to make it Halloween macaroni and cheese?"
He thinks for a second and then questioningly replies, "sprinkles?"
I sat at the red light and contemplated that for a second and looked him square in the eye and just said, "ewwww."
His only response was a gut busting laugh.
Hey, Kraft, if you put sprinkles in, we want a cut! Ya here? Drew thought of it first!
I dropped, ran, returned, cooked. Everyone filled their plates and then began the great after supper kitchen clean. Bleh. Kenmore really needs to invent a self-cleaning kitchen!
Then, it starts... the final game of the WORLD SERIES! Exciting stuff, right? The previous game was a complete shut out by the Royals.
That's a good thing. Why? Because I was rooting for Kansas City.
Not because I'm a Royals fan, but since they haven't been in a World Series game since 1985. Frankly, I think they were due.
Plus, Drew plays for the Dodgers, and they and the Royals both wear blue... (I'm reaching here. Work with me.)
and I like that song... Royals...
That's a good enough reason to root for them, right? Well, and I'm from Texas and we have the Rangers and that starts with an "R" so it all makes perfect sense now.
(and I have to throw this in there because I hold no punches! ha! That's my Rangers!)
But, honestly, my reasoning is mostly because I really don't like much of anything that has much of anything to do with any California sports teams... other than the Dodgers...
but that's just because I support my son...
as he happens to play on the Dodgers...
but make no mistake, it's the KELLER LA Dodgers that I support... not the "LA" Dodgers.
Anyway, back to the game... It was a 3-2 game going into the 8th. SanFran was winning. I was getting nervous so I did what any normal person would do at 10pm. I took a shower. I can't stand what games like that do to my nerves! I'm not cut out for this. Just make things a shut out or at LEAST more than a one run lead so you don't stress me out over it all already!
But... I couldn't leave it alone, I had the SportsCenter app up on my phone and was watching the play-by-play. While I was in the shower. Well, I mean, the phone wasn't in the shower with me, but it was on the ledge right out the door... which I kept opening to keep the screen from going to sleep.
Royals were last at bat.
I couldn't STAND IT and was like...forget it so I just decided to shave my legs since it's not full time yoga pants weather yet here in Texas.
(Just kidding, the never looks like that. I'm not an albino!)
Anyway, back to the game... The run to tie it up was on 3rd base
aaaaaaand, they lost. (Insert sad face here.)
But, my legs are smooth and that counts for something, right?
I won't lie. I solaced myself by breaking into the Milk-Duds. Yay for Halloween candy that my kid with braces can't eat!
There's always next year... and the Rangers as far as baseball. But well, yeah, there's also the Cardinals. Cardinals football. Not Arizona. I'm talking high school football and certainly not MLB from Missouri.
Not that there's anything wrong with that (and I'll say lots of prayers for you if you don't know that reference because you really have had a sad existence to miss the pure comedic genius of that show.)