Friday, February 15, 2013

How I Know It's Saturday

"How do I know it's Saturday? Bob, what other day do we practice the Hand Jive?"
Afternoon Readers,

I tell ya what, this stay at home mom thing is pretty glamorous.  Not only did I narrowly just avoid dropping pop tart on the slip acting as an undershirt to my paint-spattered sweatshirt, but the butler called in sick so now I have to go fill up my own coffee.

...My giraffe pants and I will be right back.

Now, where was I? Ahh, yes, Saturday, the sixth Monday of the week. She's a subtle minx, that one, differentiated from the other Mondays by good intentions and false hope. I, like most parents, use these false hopes to spot Saturday, as Ahab tracked Moby Dick.

If we don't do this, Saturday is confused with Sunday, thereby throwing the space-time continuum off and causing liquor stores to close early on business days. And we simply can't have that.

But, how does one spot these hallmarks of Saturday?

How, indeed.

Relying purely on instinct, and leftover Nyquil, I whip the two into a well-balanced formula of spotting the following:
 
How I Know It's Saturday


1.) I am up before the sun. The children do not recognize their father an entity able to retrieve breakfast. The father of my children sleeps next to me, however, so it must be Saturday.

2.) As I root around for cereal, I feel hungover. It's clear I ate my Friday night one-pound bag of M&Ms.

3.) Carefully, I measure out the last of the week's coffee and mix it with a strangely abundant supply of poppy seeds, in order to make a full pot of what can only be described as, "magic" or "Homeless Man's Latte."

4.) The 300th showing of Toy Story has started. Friday was the 229th. Sunday will be the day I draft a letter to Pixar, asking whether they'd like to adopt my children.

5.) As on all other Mondays of the week, the bathroom needs to be cleaned. But, unlike any other day of the week, I get the overwhelming urge to move the toilet brush slightly to the left.

6.) My weekly survey of the bare landscape out my kitchen window confirms the squirrels have used the bird feeder for another Friday night rave. 

7.) An urge to pack up the kids and go on an afternoon excursion overwhelms me. Then, cookies happen, and I'm convinced the food coma may impair my ability to drive to a museum or park.

8.) The afternoon is spent staring at Husband. He stares back. We mutually try to figure out why we're seeing each other at one o'clock, and whether that means it's Saturday, Armageddon, or we're hallucinating at our respective places of employment.

9.) Scanning the refrigerator confirms we're out of food. I now have Saturday night plans.

10.) Dinner made, kids in bed, house quiet, Husband and I decide to retire for the evening. After some witty repartee and a game of "If you Take My Pillow, I Don't Have One," we agree that it must be Saturday because all the fun that was had in the previous twelve hours. Only six more Mondays until we do it all again.

Until Next Time, Readers!




15 comments:

  1. LOL! My husband works a rotating schedule and totally confuses our 6 year old special needs son. The look of utter chaos that crosses his face when he sees daddy getting him ready for school is *priceless* and I can't help but giggle. Which starts the kid giggling. Which causes the daddy to tickle the kid and more chaos ensues. :)

    I have a color coded calendar so that I know which days to send the child to school. I would feel sheepish standing out there waiting for a bus that won't be around for 2 days. :)

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    1. I, too, will need a color-coded calendar, when the kids head to school. Maybe I should get a jump on it, and make one now. That settles it. Off to pull out the craft satchel. That's right, I said, "satchel."

      Your little boy sounds adorable, by the way...;)

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  2. Every day is Saturday once the kids have moved out & you're retired!!

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    1. I knew these Mondays eventually converted to Saturdays. *Taps foot impatiently*

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  3. Saturday is the day we lay there and compete to see who can pretend the longest not to hear the kids using the waffle maker and the dog scratching to be let out. Whoever breathes too loud or rolls over loses. Fun times.

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    1. Ahh, the stand-off. I lose, every time. I've got to work on not breathing so loud.

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  4. Saturday is no different then the rest of the week, except for my hubby being home, my kids having dance half the morning and it probably being the busies t0day of my whole damned week. Seriously, Saturday used to be loved and cherished by me, now i wish for any other day, but Saturday, lol!!

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    1. Saturday was my favorite day of the week. Now that I have six Mondays, and cinnamon rolls and church that mark Sunday, it turns into a blur sometimes....:)

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  5. HA!!!
    2) Yes, when did sugar start giving me hangovers?
    8) Thank you, God, for post-basketball, pre-track season. What will we do with our TIME?

    You're super funny. Thanks for the laughs.

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    1. Thanks, Jeannine! I'm not sure when the sugar hangovers started, but I got a mean one from peanut M&Ms this weekend, and it was rough, I tell ya.

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  6. I love how you nail that family experience. And I really DID cancel trips to the zoo and the museum because of cookie hangovers. Now that they are teens, I eat the cookies and hand them the car keys. Do you think that's a bad thing?

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    1. I do find myself planning all sorts of activities, Piper, and then that entire loaf of bread and cocoa happen, and it's like driving may as well be climbing Pike's Peak, barefoot.

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  7. I have my husband convinced that there's a universal law that whoever gestates the children, the other person gets up in the morning with them... he actually does it kind of often, but nighttime is a different story... the man can sleep through, well, a baby screaming ALL EFFING night....

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    1. Ok, I totally missed the boat on this. I wonder if I can carefully word it so he'll believe me. Also, I think it may be physically impossible for men to hear a baby crying at night. Many nights of observation and staring at Husband's sleeping face have confirmed this to be true.

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  8. I can't quite tell if you're joking or serious, because I really did used to eat pounder bags of m&ms. My favorite thing in college used to be to go for a run and then buy a bag of m&ms and eat them until I made myself sick, but then not be able to stop eating them.

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