So, it's final exam time. Time when the teachers get grading all that stuff you were pissed about having to hand in. Time when the end-of-year reports pile up. And, as it turns out, time when the family car breaks down.
As luck would have it... J's car broke down one mile from our shop, in front of a convenience store. So, this is one of those silver lining deals. He wasn't stranded in the boonies for hours. Someone stopped immediately (he didn't even have to hoof it across the street to the store) to let him call me on the cell. We have a towing service, so they were called and promised to dispatch someone. I gave up (selflessly) my chance to work out to drop J at work and wait for the tow. Would you believe that in the half hour I waited a cop and a fireman stopped to see if I needed help? Would you also believe that I drank my second 24 oz diet pepsi of the day so by the time the tow arrived, I threw him the key and drove across the street and hop/danced into the ladies room? Yes on both counts.
Anyway, so I gave up the gym. Z had piano lessons, so we did end of day sort of in reverse. I met the bus at home for Z. We struggled through some inane first-grade homework. Then, we gathered Z's piano books, and picked up J. Then, picked up B and T. Then dropped Z at lessons (there's a point - hang on).
After lessons, we needed dinner. So, we took an overanimated Z, an excitable B and a cranky T to a bar that doubles as a restaurant on the way home. Each kid got a Yoo-Hoo (which, if you don't know is a semi-dairy, semi-chemical filled chocolate sortof dairy drink).
Shortly thereafter, T suddenly smelled kinda off. And, what a mess. So, J scrubbed the boy with some napkins (clean face for throwing up) and finished eating his meal.
Then, J took T to the car to clean up while I finished eating with the big boys and settled the bill (I did tip well and let him know to clean up the booth real well).
When I got outside, T was naked in the car and J was scrubbing himself with wet wipes. He stuffed T into a spare diaper and into his seat and held out a plastic bag (ewww). What a mess for a little spit up!
No, J says - as it turns out , he had the runs and blew out of his pants all over - it was the runs - everywhere, in a restaurant. We couldn't tell, cuz' well, he had a Yoohoo.
Are these the days we're going to treasure?