When I got back from the retreat, Sunday evening, the first words out of my teenager's mouth were "Missed you, mom". But they were quickly followed by "We're out of bread and milk and I need gum." A mom's work is never done. I knew I'd end up going to the store first thing Monday morning.
So, Monday, at 6am, I went to Walmart, in my PJs. (Just kidding, I just put that PJ part in there in case Trudy ever reads this)
I picked up the groceries and came home to find a sad-faced little Bean waiting for me on the couch. "Mommy, my tummy doesn't feel good."
Now normally, such a claim would prompt me to ask a slew of poo questions (you moms know the ones I'm talking about), but since he'd already complained the previous night, I didn't bother. I'd already scheduled the day off (which I, unfortunately, didn't realize prior to my 6am Walmart trek) so I decided he'd better stay home.
Little guy spent the morning cracking jokes and playing with our furbaby, Mr. Marshmallow. When I suggested grabbing Chinese food for lunch he got all excited and made up a song about duck sauce and crab racoons (yes, racoons). Seeing my baby in such a good mood made me happy... and suspicious.
By 2pm, hubby, who was working from home, and I started to question if Bean ever was sick in the first place. He hadn't slowed down since he got off the couch that morning. Now, in his defense, I did administer peppermint oil and ginger ale. Still, I wondered if I got played.
Truth be told, I don't care if I did, because I got to spend the day doing one of my favorite things - snuggling with my guys. Play on, Playa!
(View of my lap: Bean, Marshmallow, and hubby's foot)
