Living Life One Cliche at a Time
Sigh.
I am a cliche.
You know all those movies or tv shows like Mr. Mom? They depict the father as a fumbling buffoon unable to competently care for their children like the mother does. I hate those.
Except....uh, yeah....that's me.
This morning was a tad rough.
I had the alarm set for 6:15. Owen woke me up telling me it was 6:50. I screeched and said, "SIX-FIFTY, ARE YOU SURE?" He said, "oh, oops, I meant 5:50." I sighed and slumped back into my pillow and said, "o.k...wake me up in ten minutes at 6:00" and I happily drifted back to sleep. I began drifting in and out of sleep and thinking, "where's Owen?" Finally I rolled over to Ernie's side of the bed and pushed down the top of the Anakin Star Wars Lego clock and it said 6:52. I leapt out of bed screaming "OWEN, OWEN, why didn't you wake me?" He trotted up the stairs and said, "well, I thought I would let you sleep the way Daddy does." Oh.
I gotta say....both boys had gotten their own breakfasts and Owen helped me put their lunches together and agreed to walk to school on his own so I could take a shower. I admit I'm wearing the same dress I wore yesterday but at least I'm clean....and miraculously enough both boys got to school on time and I managed to squeeze in getting gas and still get to work on time.
Geesh.
We miss Ernie.
