Black to the Future

Things are getting back to normal here now that Mardi gras is over.  That is, if you consider Asshole Wednesday to be normal (in this case, methinks “Ash” was an abbreviation).  Everyone I’ve encountered today has been a butt, from the nasty bitch in the elevator to the jackasses on the road, to the witch who let the door to the lobby slam in my face.  Maybe everyone’s mourning the holiday season (no extra days off until Easter).  Maybe everyone’s hung over.  Not my fault, whatever the case.  Geez.

Anyway, it’s been an odd 5 days.  Saturday was unremarkable.  Sunday was the Dude’s birthday.  He loved his cake.  He loved his new digger and tractors.  And someone, somewhere, gave him and his sister a cold virus.  Thanks!  That’s freaking awesome.

I've been trying to convince him hard metal diggers don't belong in his bed at night.  It's not going so well.

I’ve been trying to convince him hard metal diggers don’t belong in his bed at night. It’s not going so well.

Singing happy birthday to himself by his digger cake

Singing happy birthday to himself by his digger cake

Monday Will and I had to work, so the kids got to spend the day at Oui Oui’s.  They love it over there, so that was a treat for them.  Tuesday was Mardi gras.  Big deal.  I took the dude for his 2 year checkup that morning and then had a blissful salon outing while Will watched the kids.  I had my first facial in probably at least 5 years and got a haircut.  The facial was bliss, and the haircut necessary; I was in imminent danger of falling back into the mommy ponytail brigade.  My boss asked me about that this morning, and why a ponytail was such a big deal. I said it was the hair equivalent of sweatpants to a mommy – a sign you’ve given up.

Not that there's anything wrong with a ponytail, but if it's this short, I'm forced to try to "do something."

Not that there’s anything wrong with a ponytail, but if it’s this short, I’m forced to try to “do something.”

When I returned – beautified – we took the kids to the bookstore and then figured we’d grab an early dinner.  We went to a local Italian place very close to our house.  We’ve gone there a lot.  They’re not the snappiest place on earth, but their food is pretty damn good.

The kids were starving and showing their butts when we walked through the door.  The hostess (?) took several minutes to seat us.  She was parked at the bar, rolling silverware, and watching something like The View.  She seemed kind of put out that we needed a high chair and a booster seat.  Maybe that’s why the bitch only gave us 3 crayons for 2 kids: 2 black and 1 brown.

I call this "Stella makes the best of it" a.k.a. her study in black and brown

I call this “Stella makes the best of it” a.k.a. her study in black and brown

Yes, it was a holiday.  Yes, it was an odd time to arrive (2:45).  Yes, there were 6 tables in play throughout the house, although one was cashing out as we ordered our drinks.  There were 4 employees visible: the (nasty) hostess, our server (whom I shall call Lady Gastropod due to her speediness), and 2 guys in the kitchen.  It was still totally workable, if that staff had given a rat’s butt.  We sat for 20 minutes and no one had even taken our food order.  Felix was coming unglued and I had run out of emergency purse snacks.  We said F it and got the check for our pitiful drinks.  Why even bother to open?

That brings me back to today.  These strange mid-week holidays are always discombobulating.  It feels like Monday but it’s totally not.  Since I did work Monday, it’s like I get 2 Mondays this week.  Maybe that’s why everyone’s pissed.  Here’s hoping that the rough beginning was the worst of it.  I’m pulling for warmer, sunnier, and snot-free pastures!

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About larva225

Working mom. Is there any other kind? Geologist. Nerd.
This entry was posted in life, Parenting and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Black to the Future

  1. Meg C. DeBoe says:

    You guys get Mardi Gras off?? Every year? Cool!

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