It the kinda day where there are numerous things that X-Man feels the need to cry about, yet none is worth the effort it takes to conjure real tears. He wanted to watch My Little Ponies, which after a long day of playing outside, seemed reasonable. The father figure told him to come into the living room where he could stream Netflix. X-Man collapsed on the ground wailing “No Fletflix….Plonies!!!!” Rough life.
It’s also been the kinda day where I show up for Baby’s doctor appointment twenty minutes early, because I am that together. Only to be told by the very polite receptionist “I think Dr. Raj is at our 87th Avenue location today.” She could have just as easily said “Dr. Raj is always at our 87th Avenue location, you know, the one closer to your house, and you really should know that seeing you’ve brought various children to him over the last few months.” I am holding Monday responsible.
Other highlights of the day included trying to explain to X-Man why he should just wear underpants. He certainly prefers going to commando, however he also tries to maintain some sense of decorum. In order to enjoy the best of both worlds, he kept trying to pull down his shirt to cover himself. In order to fully clothe himself, he needed to crouch down and pull his shirt over his bent knees. This then made it very difficult to walk. Frustration abounded. Underwear was not a solution. It is still unclear what the solution is, but it is most definitely not underpants.
It just occurred to me that I signed Baba, Baby and Mac up for a sports camp that starts at 8am tomorrow. I regret this choice immensely.