Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Try to understand the self-control that it takes an overly pregnant wife to not say “I told you so” to a totally deserving husband. I win all the awards.

Today was a crazy day. I knew it would be and requested that the father figure not work today. Which stunned his employers since he always works and always takes extra work. No worries, he clearly saw how much he was needed.
t started with a doctor’s appointment.  Not of my choosing. They actually called me to mention that X-Man’s 18 month checkup had yet to be scheduled, although X-Man had passed the eighteen month mark a few months ago. So did I want to schedule one? Now honestly the answer was “heck no to the tenth degree” but as I already had the doctor office calling me, aware that I had forgotten about one child’s health, and as I had made three out of four of my own doctor appointments the day before, I figured I was treading on thin ice. So I said “sure.”

So, I booked the appointment close the class time the three other kiddos had, in an attempt to save time and sanity. It ended up backfiring. And I knew that my hands would be overflowing, so I roped the father figure in to corralling the fruit of his loins.

Now, while the father figure is helpful in all the father figure type duties, he is distinctly not helpful when it comes to getting children out the door. Or anywhere, on time. In fact, he harshes my fairly punctual groove. And he did again today.

I take partial responsibility because I relented on my insistence that we leave an hour early. I insist on the hour, because that gets me forty minutes to reach my destination. But I accommodated the father figure and shaved the departure time down to the absolute minimum. So, we left five minutes later than we were supposed to.

I will admit to a second error, which was mentioning to the father figure, as we traveled in the left hand lane, under the speed limit  (thanks PT Cruiser), that we had thirteen minutes to reach our destination. And so, the father figure sprang into action. And by springing, I mean he crossed over to the far right hand lane to pass the cars that were indeed all traveling under the speed limit, while he himself exceeded the speed limit by ten miles. Which I, helpful as always, pointed out to him. Which he, appreciative as always, responded “I know what I’m doing.

You know who else knew what he was doing? That’s right. A State Patrol Officer. I didn’t see the officer flip on his lights in his well concealed undercover car; I was too busy sitting there with my eyes closed. But I definitely heard the “aw crap” from the father figure. And I knew.

I realized afterwards that I need to remove all the old insurance cards from the glove box, because I actually handed the officer one that expired last year. And I gave him two different registrations. Not that he even looked at them. Nope, he started with the whole “know why I stopped you?” which the father figure had to admit he did have an inkling. The officer then launched in to his thoughts on the matter “Well, I saw you get frustrated with the car that was in the left hand lane, and a lot of people don’t know the law that you aren’t supposed to travel in the left hand lane, especially under the speed limit. So you passed him and got up to 80 and then you probably missed where the speed limit changes to 60.” Father figure is nodding along and I’m sitting there thinking “Dude you are so trying bail him out.” He stuck his head in my window and look at the hardened criminals sitting in the car, Baba was studiously not making eye contact by working on schoolwork, X-Man wasn’t wearing a shirt and was wearing his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, Mac sitting in a ball and Baby was beaming at him. His question “How ya’ll doin’ today?” went unanswered, although X-Man did offer him some sandwich. He turned back to the father figure and me and asked “Where you headed?” Now, this is where a tad bit of luck hit us. See Gestating Cinco was sitting loud and proud and decided that she should be part of this family experience. She thrashed impressively, which pushed her out even more so. And I honestly replied “The doctor.” He smiled and handed everything back and said “I’m certain that you will be driving the speed limit from here on out.” The father figure affirmed emphatically. I glanced at the officer and said “I’ll make sure he does.” And we were on our way.
The father figure assumed that the officer was sympathetic to his plight. I assumed that the officer figured that the rest of the trip with a pregnant wife who was obviously annoyed was punishment enough. I have yet to say “I told you so” although I did say that the whole pregnant wife shtick had an expiration date. I did tell him I knew what I would be blogging on that night.

I could write about the doctor visit, with the six page form they forgot to mail to me with all sorts of development questions. One of which was asking if I had showed X-Man how to use other object to reach the ones he had his heart set on. Maybe it was actually an IQ test for me. I could talk about how X-Man showed his enthusiasm for vaccines with a smelly reaction, but no tears, while the diaper bag sat in the car. Or how I rushed everyone to their classes, only to think they were canceled until the person I called to  check the scheduled pointed out I was there a half hour early.

But that takes away from the fact I have yet to say “I told you so” to the father figure. Although this blog might really interfere with my high road taking. 

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