Decide whether to laugh or cry.
It started in the afternoon — I saw Ava suspiciously squatting in the solarium. All appeared to be okay, so I left her there. I grabbed what I thought was enchilada casserole out of the freezer and put it out to thaw. Later, after wondering why I wasn’t smelling it more when it was baking, I discovered it was actually lasagna, which needs considerably more time to cook. So, on with the speed bake, and — oh yeah — lasagna gets covered. Of course, once covered, it boils over, prompting another uncovering.
I forget what I even went into the solarium for. Once there, I noticed flour on the end table. Odd, I thought. Then I saw a zip-lock bag on the floor. I stopped and thought for a second, then realized it had to be one of the bags that I had put homemade noodles into earlier. But where are the noodles? I questioned the culprit, who says the dog ate them.
While in the solarium solving the noodle mystery, noticed the cap of a yellow hi-lighter. Sadly, the cap was next to Jake’s Bible, so I checked. All of the pictures stuck in his Bible, along with the first page of Zephaniah, have a tinge of jaundice-like yellowness. So, as I discovered this morning, does the couch and a songbook on the piano. The rest of the hi-lighter was on a chair. So, I put the lid on, put it away and went on with my business.
I went to check on the supper in the oven, and while there, discovered a nasty pile of dog food and water on the floor by the fridge. I told Ava to clean it up, whereupon she grabbed the towel hanging on the stove and started at it. She fussed when I started helping her by throwing the dog food in the trash. She didn’t want me to make Gracie go hungry, apparently. AS IF mixing her water and food all over the floor isn’t injury enough to the poor animal. The water — I guess it was some from the water bowl, but also some from a zip-lock bag. This is the latest fascination, and it’s definitely made it to the need for corporal punishment. I can’t handle her carrying around bags full of water. . .
At that point, she wanted to help mommy and started dragging a chair toward the stove. She tipped it over and it crashed to the floor, prompting a very loud and unhappy rendition of her name to spew from my lips. She immediately burst into tears, and I was struck with an instant attack of conscience. I took her hand, stood the chair up and walked her to the living room to hold and comfort her.
She wiggled down from the couch, walked over to where Luke was happily playing on the floor and smacked him on the face. By the time we made it back into the living room after three very hard swats, Luke was screaming. Really screaming. So was Ava. One on each shoulder. After a minute, Ava started trying to push my head out of the way, so that she could comfort Luke. I heard, “It’s okay, Baby Yuke. Mommy’s here. Mommy’s here and Ava’s here. (As if Ava being here will actually comfort him at this point.) You okay, Baby Yuke?” She was very sweet — rubbing his head while trying so hard to comfort him.
I had sent Jake to the store to get garlic bread (to go with the Lasagna I didn’t know we were having.) I called to let him know to just go ahead and come home with whatever he could find. Forget finding exactly what I had asked for. Well, he had the guy in the deli making bread for us, so I figured he might as well wait for it. I checked on the supper again, only to discover that it was quite burnt. I was trying to decide what to do with it when Jake came home. He deemed it “just fine” and it was truthfully really okay, as we discovered later when we ate it. The cheese was only quite well-done, since I had to cook it uncovered. Jake brought some drinks home for me, and Ava thought she had to have one. I told her that I was sorry — she couldn’t have one because they had caffeine. She gave me a very sad-eyed look, along with a “But I want some. May I have some caffeine, please?”
Later that evening, I gave Ava instructions to do something, finishing with my customary, “Ava, say ‘Yes, Mom’.”
She didn’t say it, so I repeated myself. This time, she replies — “I said, ‘Mm-Hmmm.”
“Ava, I said say ‘Yes, Mom.’”
“I said, ‘Mm-Hmmm.’”
“Ava — ‘Yes, Mom’.”
Sigh. “Yes, Mom.” “Because I said, ‘Mm-Hmmm’ already.”
I had to decide — do I laugh or cry? Life is only like this once, and I will look back on this little blip and miss it one day, I’m sure. My life is good.
So, I smiled. And before long, I laughed.
Sorry Lynette, but I’m laughing. I SO remember those days. I had one that sat in the middle of my living room carpeted floor and gagged himself until he threw up right after I got home from the hospital with a baby, they do the strangest things! You do tell it well! It will get better! Poor Ava she doesn’t know whether she likes or dislikes that little brother! (she really likes him!)