Oh Monday.

Here are the things I did today that backfired.

#1. Got out of bed. No, just kidding, I have to get out of bed or SA will drag me out by my heels and pour coffee down my throat and it will probably be too hot and he will disregard my tears and go to work anyway.

Real #1. Decided to take the bus uptown.

Usually we walk. Correction: usually *I* walk and the children ride in the buggy. It is not a long walk but it is uphill. Trombone, the fast walker, likes to ride because he is used to it. Fresco, the slow walker who likes to rip his hand out of mine and dash into traffic prefers to walk, but can’t be trusted. Also, if you are hoping to actually get somewhere, having Fresco walk is not in your best interests. So they ride. They eat snacks, I push the buggy and then I have a handy place to store our coats, bags, groceries, what-have-you.

Today it is raining, though, very hard, and I thought well, all we have to do is return two library books and buy some onions so why not just hop on a bus and in two minutes we’ll be uptown and can run those two small, easy errands. Also, pushing the buggy uphill is prohibitively hard work and I didn’t feel like it.

Stupid. Is what I am.

I saw that a bus would be at our very nearby bus stop in half an hour so I got us all dressed in boots and coats and then we got outside and wow, it’s really raining. Trombone says, “Oh, can we take an umbrella?” So I say sure, why not.

#2. Taking an umbrella.

The umbrella is a big one, an adult sized one with a curved handle. It is Trombone’s height, maybe taller. So while I’m trying to illustrate to him how to hold it without gouging anyone’s meaty flesh / eyeballs and also trying to lock the front door behind us, Fresco takes off running.

NOTE: I know. I should have him on a leash. He is the poster child for child-leashes.

A couple of weeks ago it would have worked to yell at him to come back. He would have at least stopped and given me time to catch up. Now, I can only tell he hears me because he runs faster. And he’s not in any danger; we’re in an enclosed area but that is not the point. If there were wolves in our yard, I would be less concerned about them and still more concerned about getting. to. where. I’m. going. TODAY.

Deep breath.

Having left ourselves 15 minutes to get to the bus stop, which is about 30 seconds away if you’re an adult who knows how to catch a bus, we made it just in time.

2 minutes later we were uptown. Turns out Trombone had two quarters, one in each hand and he dropped one just as we were about to get off the bus and then the bus driver pulled away and this woman had to yell at him to stop and let us off and then he SIGHED like we just ate his last chocolate chip cookie but he let us off.

#3. Letting Trombone find out about money.

Sometime before Christmas he started wondering about the value of money. He and Fresco would sort through the piggy bank which is actually an elephant and Trombone would ask me what he could buy with two pennies. (nothing) How about three pennies. (nothing) How about 10 pennies. (nothing) Finally I told him the least he needed was twenty-five cents. Oh, what can I get with $0.25? I don’t know…a gumball?

Stupid. Is what I am.

Of course the Safeway has candy machines in the entrance so every time we go to the store he looks longingly at them and once a week or so I let him put in a quarter and get a gumball, which he takes 45 minutes to savour and then spins around the house for 2 hours like a maniac. This morning somehow he ended up with two quarters and I did not realize until our awesome moment on the bus that he had brought them with him, expecting that at some point we would encounter a gumball machine.

And he seems to think that a pocket is a Direct Tunnel to Hell because he refuses to put the damn quarters in his pocket.

#4. Going in the library.

I should have put the books in the outside drop box. Because when we went inside, Fresco tore off to look for the Christmas tree while Trombone nearly walked into five old people because he was trying to get the quarters back out of his jeans pocket.

#5. Letting Trombone carry the umbrella through Safeway.

Sorry, fresh produce displays. Sorry, shelves of crackers. Sorry, sorry, sorry.

Although – I have been gouged enough by grown ups who should know better carrying umbrellas (Downtown Vancouver, I am looking at you and hoping you freeze to death with my steely stare) that perhaps my umbrella karma is just balancing out?

#6. After getting home, allowing the children to help me make peanut butter cookies.
#6 a) Without first getting myself a snack.

Holy fuck. All Trombone wants to do is eat the sugar, butter and salt out of their containers. All Fresco wants to do is remove the contents of the mixing bowl and put them on the counter. All I want is a goddamn peanut butter cookie. Is this really fun? For anyone?

I know; it is fun for the people who have one child. Or for people who don’t actually like cookies. Or for people who hate me.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have several cookies to eat. And a container full of quarters to move to a taller shelf.