Parading on my Reign

Friday was a hard day to get people moving.  I don't know why but every human being, self included needed the equivalent of a cheerleader hopped up on Red Bull with the strength of the Incredible Hulk to get their eyelids propped open.  When your teen drops into the bin of socks and starts to snore, you know it's not good.   I am a doggedly cheerful person in the morning and eventually got them marching.  However I crashed later and no about of diet coke was going to work. So I put on a DVD and let the two youngest watch UP with me in hopes all three of us would nap.  Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha.  Slow clap if you wish.  It was a dumb bit of optimism on my part.

What I should have done, is strap them in the van, drive around the block once with music on, and then parked in the driveway for a snooze.  However, the reality is, I didn't.  So I awoke to my toddlers planning a surprise picnic on our bed.  They had out the bread and the milk and the bagels and the grapes and cheese sticks.  It was messy and delicious and I had to vacuum my bed.  

The sluggishness of getting going continued to persist.  We had pick up at 2:45.  At 2:30 I was still searching for socks and shoes.  Getting them on everyone, I said, "Let's go!" in my most enthusiastic voice.  Paul marched out.  Anna refused.   She didn't want to go.  "Come on!" I cajoled.  "Look, your big brother is going. Paulie is going.  Look at Paul.  Don't you want to be like Paul? He's a good boy..."  She started to go out the door.  I hadn't checked Paul while I was singing his praises for going out the door.

He was sloshing through puddles.  I mean kicking up Gene Kelly Big Finish Singing in the Rain I can out crash the cymbals kind of splashing.   His sister had heard my appeal to be just like him perfectly.  Guess who followed suit?

I grab the two soaking wet toddlers but they're already beyond salvage.  Each will need a complete redo on the outfits down to the shoes.  They are soaked soaked soaked soaked.  I get them in the car and shut them in their car seats, making the car seats damp while I run back inside for fresh diapers and outfits.  I bag the extra shoes, they can be barefoot.  

But in my haste to get back to the house, I'd neglected the reality that I put them in each other's car seats.  Paul can escape Anna's.  So I'm zipping up the backpack and I hear HONK HONK HONK HONK HONK HONK HOOONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNK! and I'm running back to the car to find my son beside himself with joy, soaking wet, drenching my seat and holding down the horn.  It is in this uncontrollable moment of pure chaos, that the rain begins to drop down as a solid sheet once again.

After I get them changed, dry down the seats and get them strapped back into the correct seats, I call my husband to tell him the whole story.

"At least they listened." he quipped.