Me, Myself and I
I have mixed feelings when Robin goes out of town. 90% of me thinks, "Please sweet Jesus, no!" The other 10% schemingly taps her fingers together ala Burns from the Simpsons and thinks, "An evening to myself - Exxcellent!"
Last weekend pretty much followed that ratio. 90% of the time I was in semi-panic mode, afraid I'd either crumble to the floor or self-combust and evaporate, leaving my poor, helpless children to fend for themselves. I'm happy to report I held it together the entire weekend, entirely alone.
I can't quite remember everything we did (my calm, motherly, alter-personality took over at crucial times), but we spent as much of the weekend out of the house as possible: park, Science Center, Children's Museum, grocery store. I played games! I read stories! I baked cookies! I was ON!
So by Sunday night I was ready for a giant pat on the back, in the form of a date with Me, Myself and I. I love these dates. The three of us always get along, we always want the same thing to eat, and we always agree on just the right movie to watch. Trying to clink three glasses of wine simultaneously is a bit of a challenge though.
Since I didn't have a fluff movie at home via Netflix, I braved Blockbuster with the two squirmies and rented Factory Girl.
Back at home I calmly fed the kids dinner, gave them a bath and we all got jammies on. Smooth sailing except...
"Harrison."
"What?"
"What's this in your pocket?"
"Nothing."
"Candy. You stole candy from Blockbuster."
Silence.
Big, deep breath.
I got dressed, put shoes and jackets on the kids over their jammies, and back we went to return the candy and apologize to one of the male employees who, judging by the smile on his face, I'm sure was brought nostalgically back to his own childhood.
Harrison was sent to bed with no stories and Gigi finally crashed after the long day.
Big exhale.
Hello Me, how are you?
Hello Myself, how've you been?
Hello I, buy you a drink?
I made my favorite dinner - an extra large salad with all the fixings: romaine lettuce mixed with some baby greens, cucumber slices, diced red pepper, plump cherry tomatoes, shredded mozerella cheese, bite-size turkey slices, toasted pine nuts, avocado slices, homemade vinagrette, and cheese and garlic croutons.
The movie was swell and taught more about Warhol than Edie Sedgwick, I thought. I was hoping for a sort of biography of an interesting woman, but Warhol came across as far more interesting, of course (Dear God, please make more interesting women). Plus, he was played by Guy Pearce, an actor I've been sorely missing over the past few years. A fun movie in any case, and just what I needed.
Me, Myself and I sweetly kissed ourselves goodnight. Then we kissed Robin when he got home late. He wasn't jealous of our date.
Last weekend pretty much followed that ratio. 90% of the time I was in semi-panic mode, afraid I'd either crumble to the floor or self-combust and evaporate, leaving my poor, helpless children to fend for themselves. I'm happy to report I held it together the entire weekend, entirely alone.
I can't quite remember everything we did (my calm, motherly, alter-personality took over at crucial times), but we spent as much of the weekend out of the house as possible: park, Science Center, Children's Museum, grocery store. I played games! I read stories! I baked cookies! I was ON!
So by Sunday night I was ready for a giant pat on the back, in the form of a date with Me, Myself and I. I love these dates. The three of us always get along, we always want the same thing to eat, and we always agree on just the right movie to watch. Trying to clink three glasses of wine simultaneously is a bit of a challenge though.
Since I didn't have a fluff movie at home via Netflix, I braved Blockbuster with the two squirmies and rented Factory Girl.
Back at home I calmly fed the kids dinner, gave them a bath and we all got jammies on. Smooth sailing except...
"Harrison."
"What?"
"What's this in your pocket?"
"Nothing."
"Candy. You stole candy from Blockbuster."
Silence.
Big, deep breath.
I got dressed, put shoes and jackets on the kids over their jammies, and back we went to return the candy and apologize to one of the male employees who, judging by the smile on his face, I'm sure was brought nostalgically back to his own childhood.
Harrison was sent to bed with no stories and Gigi finally crashed after the long day.
Big exhale.
Hello Me, how are you?
Hello Myself, how've you been?
Hello I, buy you a drink?
I made my favorite dinner - an extra large salad with all the fixings: romaine lettuce mixed with some baby greens, cucumber slices, diced red pepper, plump cherry tomatoes, shredded mozerella cheese, bite-size turkey slices, toasted pine nuts, avocado slices, homemade vinagrette, and cheese and garlic croutons.
The movie was swell and taught more about Warhol than Edie Sedgwick, I thought. I was hoping for a sort of biography of an interesting woman, but Warhol came across as far more interesting, of course (Dear God, please make more interesting women). Plus, he was played by Guy Pearce, an actor I've been sorely missing over the past few years. A fun movie in any case, and just what I needed.
Me, Myself and I sweetly kissed ourselves goodnight. Then we kissed Robin when he got home late. He wasn't jealous of our date.
posted by Anne at 5:11 PM
2 Comments:
Hah! Great story - I mentioned this when I saw you but I remember doing something innocuous like that when I was a kid and I remember it to this day. I wasn't even caught and I remember. Ouch.
How very innocent of you! I don't think Santa counts it if you only steal once in your entire childhood.
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