January 30, 2012
Monday morning.
4.00 am.
Wide awake.
Jasper snuggled in tight.
Stephen snoring loudly beside me.
Frankie at the end of the bed, on the bed.
Fynn at the foot of the bed, not on the bed.
Not for a lack of trying.
Or desire on my part.
He was offered the option of sleeping in Em's room, on her bed, stretched out luxuriously.
But no.
He insisted on coming into our room with Frankie.
Resulting in a small conflict over who was going to sleep where.
Which resulted in a proclamation from Stephen that we were going to Costco tomorrow to buy dog beds for the boys.
Who won't use them, but at least they'll be there for them to snub and ignore.
At this moment, they are both in our room, happily snuggling with Daddy, having ousted Mummy out.
Something is so wrong with this picture.
Not that I can see the picture very well.
In an attempt to gently wake Stephen Friday morning, I received an unintended but gentle blow to the side of my glasses.
Rendering them bigger than they should be.
Making the weekend one of my pushing up my glasses every few seconds and complaining about it.
Hence a trip to the optometrists' office after Simply for Life to have them adjusted.
That should take an hour or so.
Yippppeeeee.
Next time, I'll stand at the bedroom door and throw potatoes at Stephen to wake him up.
Fynnigan met my mother yesterday.
After a blustery, yet satisfying walk at the farm, we returned home long enough for me to use the bathroom (as I am not going pee outside in the snow) and it was back in the car to visit Nanny.
And deliver her underwear.
Saturday evening, after beans and bread and visiting, Stephen needed to go to Canadian Tire for driveway dirt.
So I went to Pennington's for underwear for Mum.
Six pairs for the price of four.
A bargain anyway you slice it.
Me hoping that unlike the last time, I wouldn't have to make three trips back and forth between Mum and the store.
Acquainting Stephen with the underwear department at Sears far more than he ever wanted.
Knowing more about the differences between bikini briefs and full briefs, thongs and granny panties than he ever expected.
Or wanted.
I was on the edge while she took them out of the bag, inspected them. . . .
. . . .carefully.
Very carefully.
With her keen eye for detail and knowledge of size.
Luckily, the half dozen pair of panties in the bag passed inspection.
Fynn was a big hit with the residents and staff at the nursing home.
Not that I expected anything less.
Besides, with the underwear passing inspection, I could have come in with a Bengal tiger and been the daughter of the year.
Title Lyric: Ciao Monday by Emm Gryner
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