Dinner at “Dad’s Work” tonight, as it is his last Saturday night shift for the year.
Much enjoyment of food consumption was had and we faced the option of hanging around and jumping all over the couches in the foyer with our shoes on, or heading home to lie on the couch and lament our bulging bellies.
Home it was. Although, along the way we spotted some “Christmas Houses” and had to drive to the one up the road from our house to see if it was up this year. Personally, I coulda used the walk, but I stupidly listened to my children, who then begged me to let them walk home while I drove home. Hmmmm.
Monkey Boy is controlling (I use the term loosely) the toddler, and Godzilla has – surprise, surprise – tripped over and is screaming like he’s being eviscerated with a blunt spoon and demanding a bandaid. Yeah, like I have them handy all the time!
(Actually, I do, becuase he falls over a lot. Just don’t tell him I always have a pack on me.)
He hops in the car, we drive home, race around the front to ensure the biggest and littlest get home safely and we settle in for a quiet night.
Which results in the “go and brush your teeth” request/demand/scream being done, my being forced to the floor so littlest could do “aeroplanes” (whereby I lie down on my back, with my legs in the air and him balanced precarioulsy on my feet) and performing some Kamikaze pilot moves and me trying to avoid stuffing his head into the front of the TV. Followed by him pushing his brothers off my feet, because they deigned to have a bit of fun as well.
We settled with him sitting on me and forcing a two inch high, herbivorous dinosaur to eat me, before shoving it forcefully up my nose. Which is always a bit of fun.
Minor panic when Godzilla yells something about the cake still left in the oven, I go in and look and – GAH! It is!
Then remembered I turned the oven off before we left, so it should all be fine. It needed a teensy bit more cooking, so my theory is if I leave it in, but turn the oven off, it will work.
Grumpy arrives home and everyone is still up and demanding to know when the Chrimstas tree is being delivered. Somehow, I don’t think it will be here at 10pm on a Saturday night.
Tempted to ring whoever is responsible for such things so my kids can repeatedly annoy them.