Monday, February 11, 2013

Under the bed and at the park

I am going out to eat Thai food with my friend Candice tonight. I can't remember that last time I had time with a girlfriend that wasn't a chance encounter at the co-op or that didn't double as a playdate where we each had half a brain on our kids and the frazzled half a brain left for conversation and connection.

I am excited. I am going to order Pad Thai and I am going to wear lipstick.

When I wear lipstick--every time--Woody asks me why I'm wearing makeup and Fox asks me if I'm going to go out and kiss someone. I may just make a little announcement as I leave the bathroom this time: "I am going out to eat with a friend. This lipstick will probably wear off by the time I'm done my meal, but it helps me to know that this is a special occasion for me. I will give you all kisses before I go, but I don't plan on giving anyone else any kisses this evening. That is all."

We did have the full happy day today that I'd hoped for.

I washed the sheets this morning, which meant there were new-seeming surfaces to play on--bare mattresses! We set up the puppet tree on the mattress using Woody's quilt as a pond. We added a magic door to and from alternative universes where the puppets couldn't see their own shadows and sometimes bumped into them.

Then, I cleaned under the bed. Oh-ho, boy, it was like a Christmas morning with dog hair for the Honey boys! Scads of hitherto forgotten toys as well as pieces to other toys that made them fun again. This dusty pile of stuff led to at least four other sets of toys being pulled out. That's OK. Deep cleaning is always like that. Even before I had kids, I'd start a cleaning project only to find, I don't know, some lost necklace, which would remind me I meant to fix the clasp on another necklace, which would lead to the beading supplies being trotted out, which would usher in an afternoon of delightful creativity and a complete abandonment of any domestic ambitions. They come by this delightful--if not practical (or hygienic) quality honestly.

We ate leftover gumbo for lunch, then went to the park. It was busy, and beautiful. There were joggers and readers and ball tossers and dog walkers everywhere. We did everything the boys like to do at the park, but still, when it was time to go, there was much distress.

We were all tired, and a little sun-weary, and thirsty, because they turn the water fountains off in the winters at the parks here. (This did not happen in Florida, and it mystified me for months. I still, for some reason, cannot get into the habit of carrying water everywhere.) So, we slowly, gently, with much love and delicacy, moved toward the car. They both fell asleep on the way home. I drove around my favorite streets and made dreamy plans about which houses I'd like to buy some day when we're out of debt and have a savings.