Yesterday I made a batch of brownies. Now, this doesn't sound like a big deal all by itself but these were special brownies. NO! Not that kind of special! Birthday special! Thing1 turned 19 yesterday. and he loves brownies. so I made sure everyone knew it was his birthday and got to work. I cleaned the house and made some brownies. Sounds simple, right? *snort* EFF BETTY CROCKER!!!
Ok, it may not be her fault that someone has trouble following directions. Remember this?
Yeah. same thing. but with brownies. So, fine. I got the damned things cooked. and a toothpick inserted 2 inches from the edge came out *almost* clean, as directed. and I sent out an invitation...
Now, don't get your panties in a wad, the boy knows I love him, we just can't say so (he's more comfortable with the I love you's disguised as I don't like you and yeah, I don't like you, either. His opinion matters.) ..."I mopped the f****** floor for you. Hope I didn't go through all that trouble for no reason. Your dad should be home by 5. Ps... happy birthday."
He finally comes rolling in around 4:30 with a smirk of a smile, "You mopped the floor for me? You know I used to live here, right?" We had a nice chat about private things going on in his life, his plans for the day and a little bit of everything. When he left... he left the brownies. untouched. Which meant his brothers got them. along with all of our milk.
This morning, I woke up at 7:44, started cursing, yanked Alex out of bed, got him dressed and munching on Fruit Loops by the front door in a world record of 6 minutes... Standing at the front door, I look at Thing2. "Why are you here?" "I don't have to go to school until later." "...why.?" He looks at me like I've lost my mind, "I don't have Tech today." he looks at me looks at Alex and starts laughing, "that means he doesn't have school either!!!" I ask him to look at the stapled paper on the table. "Friday, March 26- NO SCHOOL- Teacher Workday." Isn't this April? I thought it was April? yup. Typo. assholes.
I take Alex to finish his cereal and watch TV in the safety of his room while I get the littlest monster off of the freaking game so he can get ready. Nightmare. Horrible. Awful. Then he wanted Spaghetti with Jimmy John cheese (just let it go. seriously. he will never believe that it's Parmesan Cheese) and peanut butter and jelly and cereal. with water. because there's no milk. which means that there is no milk for coffee. and I want to cry.
We get breakfast settled and he's dressed. and gone. vanished. I drag him back upstairs to go get his shoes. He says he can't get his shoes with the dog outside so he lets the dog in. Next thing I know, there's a huge crash, the dog slides across the floor amid the clashing, clanging, pinging, splashing of everything that was for breakfast, the dishes that contained them, the bench to the table, the baby seat, and the clutter I wasn't done looking at. The Goofy one's running around being... goofy and trips over the dog, smacking his elbow on the table. He looks at me crying, I look back, "Now, you want to do that again?" *raised eyebrow* (in the tone of my usual, "hurt, didn't it?" and "that's what you get.") He gets up and runs off unfazed. If he was really hurt, I would have been the first to yell, "YOU'RE OK!!!" which is funny to me because every time I say it now, I remember Thing2 falling up the stairs (yes, up the stairs. into the kitchen. with a heavy box) and out of reflex, I screamed at him that he was ok because he scared the hell out of me! He looked at me with this look and said, "I'm not Alex. and yeah, I'm fine." ahhhh, good times.
and then the Goofy one missed his bus. and I quit.