"... wormy, squirmy mac and cheeeeeese..."
School is out.
Have you heard? No more school. At all. Until Labor Day. It's a small child's Christmas and Easter and several lost teeth all wrapped up in one gigantic Mama-frazzling joy!
In the two-and-a-half hours since this day began, my children appear to have had the caffeine equivalent of a twelve-pack of Mountain Dew, apiece.
"MAMA CAN WE GO TO THE BEACH TODAY???" Why sure, sweetie... but you'll have to wear a sweatshirt since it's only 66 degrees outside... plus since this is, you know, New Hampshire, the water isn't going unfreeze for another two months... but what the hey....
"MAMA LET'S PLAY DOCTOR! YOU TAKE CARE OF ME!" Ooookay... this would be different from my day-to-day activity how, exactly...?
"MAMA I WANT TO READ YOU THIS BOOK!" Oh boy! The same book you read me last night? And twelve times before that? You do know you have an entire bookshelf full of a range of books...? Oh, but this is the most wondrous book on the planet, because it contains the words "balloon butt". Alrighty then.
"MAMA CAN WE GO TO THE SUPERMARKET?" Now that we can do, but I'm still disturbed that my children treasure trips to the store because of the "Play Place" there... which is essentially a big room like our family room, complete with crayons and a wide-screen television.
"MAMA I'M SICK! COME QUICK!" What's the...? Oh, I'm not finishing up on the computer fast enough for you, I see. Just a couple more minutes.
"CAN WE PLAY OUTSIDE??" Of course, but if you'd rather that Child Protective Services not interrupt, you really need to change out of your pajamas, first. I know I've only told you to get dressed five times so far this morning, so naturally you still haven't done it.
"MAMA I AM GOING TO SING YOU A PRETTY SONG!" Hence the title of this post. I am one lucky lady.
And of course, fill in the obligatory hounding-me-while-on-the-phone interlude, which I could type out for you, but it was pretty predictable. School's out, and I will not be having another uninterrupted phone call until September.
This will almost certainly be the last summer that I have the luxury of staying home with my children. I pray that I will find a way to appreciate it.
