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.
I
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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