Blue, Your Broken

"And I want to fix you."

*pulls your mind out of the gutter right now*

Little Blue and I came home after a Costco run this afternoon, and I don't know why for sure, but as soon as I entered my humble abode, my mood turned sour. I was happy to be home.

I set about getting comfortable and getting some laundry started. I fired up the dryer, and it sounded louder than normal. I peek around the back an the exhaust vent wasn't quite lined up. So, I move the ironing board and a couple brooms out of the way, decided to actually sweep a little, and move the dryer and use the broom handle to get the exhaust hose lined back up. Add in a dust pan that got stuck behind the dryer and I had to use two brooms like a pair of chopsticks to get it out...and that didn't help much

As I find a place to hide the basket of clean Little Blue clothes, I explain to Pink we're going to have to expand Little Blue's closet cubes because they're full of clean clothes now, and through our sort last weekend, he's got two more loads of clean clothes to put away. (we've got 4 cubes for him, and he tosses, not fold, his clothes in the correct one to put away his clothes. The shirts and shorts cubes are stuffed).

I still hadn't gotten the cranky out of me yet, so I get started on taking the trash out and putting the Costco goodies away.

Little Blue didn't help by asking, "Daddy, where's my lunchable?"

"In the fridge buddy."

"Give it to me."

"Uh, no Little Blue, not with that attitude."

"Why not!"

"You need to use your nice words." *Little Blue heads off to pout for 2 seconds before asking again*

*repeat x3*

I'm winding down with putting everything away and I ask Pink if she's ready to eat. I put her canned tamales in the particle accelerator, start dissecting the lunchable packaging, and Little Blue gets his tray ready. I pour his Capri-Sun into a cup, drink half, then fill it back up with water. (Cheater Dad trick). I bring his out to him while I bring Pink her tray. I get out the heating pad, grab the burn your fingerprints off hot plate from the microwave and deliver it to Pink.

They chow down, and I hear Pink occasionally tell Little Blue to keep eating his dinner, and yes he needs to eat all the meat before he can have pudding.

I'm microwaving leftover pineapple brautwurst. In my mind I tell myself, "the mess that this house is will be easier contained when I'm an At Home Dad. I can't work all day and keep up with the house all the time now. Patience."

Four minutes later, with a nice chilly diet coke in hand, I sit down at the dinner table, gentle move 7 or 8 of LB's preschool artwork and crafts, and have a bite.

It tastes like cardboard.

I sigh.

Pink see's me sigh.

I get up and scrape the plate into the trash.

I look around and formulate my plan B for dinner. Three minutes later I have two PB and Banana sandwiches and a bowl of strawberry banana yogurt.

With a Diet Coke.

Once I'm done, I chuck my paper plate in the recycle box I created from the excess cardboard from Costco (LB's school gets money for recycling paper, so we drop it off in the morning). Little Blue cleans up his own dinner and I take care of cleaning up Pink's dinner.

Pink asks for her pills and some icewater and I gladly fetch them, then move some pillows around the couch, and finally sit down next to Pink.

"Blue...you're broken!"

"I know honey."

"I want to fix you!"

"I know sweets. I just come home and see so much work that needs to be done that I get grumpy. I'd be happy if our laundry was done, LB's little laundry was out of the baby room, the baby shower clothes in plastic bags were washed, the back seat was in the back of the van, the car seats were washed and put into the van, the clothes that LB has outgrown were boxed up, and your wheel chair was bungied up to the seat in the back of the van so it doesn't hit the back window."

So what do we do? Little Blue sits on my lap, Pink snuggles up with the twins as best she can, and we watch Modern Marvels: Glue and relax.

Tomorrow Blue...tomorrow.