Monday was a stormy, dreary day. I hate storms!
When I got home from work, I thought the storms were over, and I started cooking spaghetti. Sauce was going, water was boiling…and I realized there were no noodles! Looking all around, I finally found a box of rotini, and tossed it in the water. Do you have any idea what happens when you have boxed pasta in your cabinet for a long time? I do…now. I sent Ole Boy to the store for some proper noodles, and as he came back, another storm rolled in.
I was trying to keep up with Dancing with the Stars (that old porn show!) while fixing the spaghetti, and Ole Boy decided the TV needed to be turned off during in the storm. I was slightly irritated. Then, as I’m trying to put the finishing touches on dinner, he throws a handful of crumbs into my lunch bag. I yelled at him, and stomped off leaving him to eat alone. Obviously, I was only punishing myself with this maneuver, as it was already nearing 8 p.m. because it took so long to fix the spaghetti, and I was pretty hungry. I snuck back in the kitchen and gobbled some dinner when he was finished.
On Tuesday, I took my daughter and the boys to Birmingham to the Children’s Hospital for their annual visit with the hematologist. I knew Ole Boy was mad when he left without saying anything to me. I figured I’d get him back, and I sent him an email as I was leaving that said, “If something happens to me today, don’t feel bad about not speaking to me this morning.” Then as I got in my car, I realized he had beat me to it by leaving me a voice mail telling me to be careful an hour before!
On the way to Birmingham, I told Les about the night before. With Les, you have to share her attention with whomever she is texting at the time. When I told her I’d yelled at Ole Boy for throwing crumbs in my lunch bag, she said, “That was kind of rude.” I didn’t know if she was talking about Ole Boy and his crumbs or someone who texted her, so I asked her which one. She said, “You! Mom, if that was all I had to deal with, I’d just high five Jesus.”