There were several things I'd wanted the kids to get done around the house before going to bed last night, things like PICK UP YOUR CRAP, and I told Owen we'd read the book as a bedtime story, which I thought was a great idea because when they discussed it today in class it would be fresh in his mind. When we got home from the store Skylar was asleep, so I carried her in and the kids brought various things in from the car (meaning just their bodies--clothes, shoes, and anything else they may have taken when we left is obviously optional upon deplaning) and I forgot about bringing the book inside. And I guess because I did not say directly to one person "Go outside, open the car door, get the book, close the car door, and bring the book inside" it didn't get done.
Later in the evening Owen remembered about the book and went outside to the car to get it. He announced it to everyone, that he was going outside to get in the car and get the book, and one day people around here will start to catch on to the idea that if you want to do anything and not have a bunch of people in your face trying to do it "with you" then you need to keep your mouth shut about what your plans are. I have learned this, and I routinely go about my business in the house without making any formal speeches, and I also routinely answer questions from the peanut gallery regarding my intentions with "None of your business, go away."
Anyway, Owen told everybody what he was about to do, and Skylar decided she'd go with him. I guess when they got out to the car there was a small disagreement about who was going to carry the book inside and whose book it was and who was in charge of the universe and it ended with Owen crying and shutting Skylar in the car. Skylar retaliated by mashing her nose against the window and screaming "Rowena Rowena!"
-Rowena is a name we all the kids call Owen when he is whining, because it's a girl name but it still has "owen" in the middle, and oh let me tell you it gets his fur up.-
Owen got upset about this, and instead of leaving her in the car to overheat and die he came inside and got an egg.
Does anyone see where this is going?
And if any of you were wondering where I was while this was happening, I was writing a book report on the 5th grade summer reading assignment, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, while simultaneously writing a summary of the book Dinosaurs Before Dark, the 3rd grade summer reading assignment.
Thankfully Owen took a boiled egg out of the refrigerator instead of a raw one, because, as he told me later "they all look the same." Apparently Owen does not realize that when I boil eggs I put them in a bowl rather than stick them back in the egg carton. Anyway, Owen went back outside with the egg (and I really don't know what he was going to do with it, because I know he's only 5, but for Pete's sake surely, SURELY he would have known better than to do something to Skylar with what he thought was a raw egg while she was inside the car). Skylar saw him coming, saw that he had an egg, got nervous (this is pure conjecture, the nervousness part) and peed in the car.
And Owen has the nerve to come back inside and act surprised and totally uninvolved.
Ashlyn put Skylar in the shower while I went outside, got the carpet mat things out of the car, and took a tire brush and some kitchen soap and the hose and began to scrub them. The story should end there, but, you know, it doesn't, because as I was finishing up I look up and Skylar is standing in the middle of the driveway, naked and wet, babbling something about Cinderella panties and Elmo panties. When I tell her to go back inside she wants to stand there and argue about the fact that her rights as a potty-trained 2-year old should include being able to choose whichever pair of panties she wants instead of having someone else choose for her, that they are her panties and her butt, and she should be in charge of them both. And really, if this is how she feels she's going to be pretty upset when she starts having to pay taxes.
Now the mats to the car are outside in the front yard laying across the chairs from the picnic table, sunning themselves. Periodically I have to go out and check on them, flip them over so they don't get tan lines, and basically check on their well-being, as we have two dipshit dogs that live across the street that routinely come over here and take my stuff. I'm serious, I used to have a mat on the front porch that I'd find in the ditch or in the driveway or in the neighbor's yard that finally disappeared for good. So I'm just making sure that the mats make it back into the car once they are satisfied with their UV content.
Today was the first day of school.
THANK YOU SWEET JESUS.
I thought Skylar would like to sit on the bed and watch some Dora, so I left here there and did some laundry, but when I came back she wasn't there, and I found her (again) on a chair in the kitchen with the dog treats chunking them by the handful at Heidi, who was moving as fast as her seal-like, 24 pound body can move. Now I'm going to get in the shower, and I guess I'll just hope that she doesn't burn down the house. Which would not be as big of a stretch for her as you might think.
