George came home this late afternoon and I was sitting in the kitchen holding Mr. Mischief on my lap, talking to Annabelle. I was on the verge of tears. “What’s the matter?” he asked me.
“Henry fell out of the refrigerator,” I replied.
George looked confused. “What was he doing in the refrigerator?”
“He likes to climb up and stand on the lower ledge. He was standing there and he slipped and knocked his nose and forehead and cheek in the exact spot where his scabs are healing from the faceplant he took on the bricks two days ago. Then he fell backwards and knocked the back of his head.”
Today was a doozy.
I opened the dishwasher door and Henry, quick as lightning, stuck one little finger in the goopy soap and licked it before I could stop him. He threw my phone away and I didn’t notice until I heard it ringing in the bottom of the kitchen trash and I had to dig it out.
I made the grave error of going to the Maple Street Bookstore and Toy store thinking the booboos would enjoy these places. I should have known it was a bad sign when the children’s section of the bookstore threw me attitude when I asked them for Skippyjon Jones, a story about a siamese cat who dreams of being a chihuahua. The proprietor stated she finds that book “annoying.” OK.
Then I went to the grown-up section and there was an author’s book signing of some very serious post-katrina book. I was in a rush as the kids were ready to go. “Do you have a book called The Starter Wife?” I asked. The clerk glared at me as if I had just asked for m&m’s in a health food store. “No!” she said with obvious digust. The otehr clerk offered to order it for me. While she did this, I tried to make conversation. “I need a good book to read.” I turned around with Henry squirming in my arms and there sat the author doing the signing. What could I do? “What’s your book about? May I look?” “Of course he says. “I”ll take it!” I say, trying to redeem myself. And I threw in the Moviegoer by Walker Percy s it was sitting right in front of me and I’ve always wanted to read it. (It’s great by the way!) I wasn’t planning on spending $50 on books, so I felt sick. The writer continued his very serious discussion with the nasty clerk. Henry took this opportunity to put my movie star sunglasses on upside down and stare a the writer with the kind of look he gets when he wants to be admired or laughed at and he’s not going to put up with being ignored. I couldn’t help laughing, the nice clerk was laughing, and when I left the store, I felt like I was surfing out on a big wave.
What the hell people?! I’m just trying have somethign good to read.
It was unbearably hot. We proceeded to the toy store where I tried to pick out a birthday gift for a three year old I barely know and tried to keep track of the munchkins. Henry wheeled a pink stroller over by the front door and tried to escape everytime a customer entered or left. The trip culminated in Annabelle sitting on the floor screaming “I’m so sorry mom, but I just want everything that looks so cute!” I can relate. I do too. But at this point, we came home after spending $100 more than intended, and then Henry fell out of the fridge…you get the idea.
It was a bad day.
But turned into a delightful evening when George and I went out for a fantastic dinner and actually could have a conversation. I got to wear my new Jackie O. shoes and actually comb my hair adn waer a pretty dress without having oatmeal dripping down the front. (I spilled a little vegetarian lasagna down the front, but that’s a different matter.)