Thursday, January 12, 2006
Swiss cheese memory
Swim night did not go so well last night. Sure, I managed to get home, let the dogs out and get the kids to the pool on time. Little things along the way frustrated me immensely though. The little nits and such that when looked at in the micro view should not raise an eyebrow, but the atomic mass of the sum had an obnoxiously overwhelming presence that burdened my sagging sanity. For starters, I know my memory is awful these days. A lazy hippocampus is a horrible thing. So many semi-trivial things make it through but semi-important items just don't fire properly. First off, I damn near forgot the bag-o-gear when I left the manor for the SuperSaturn. The second attempt revealed that I was missing the swim-diapers (required at this age, even though they DO leave the pool and ask to go potty ... several times). When I got the diapers, I forgot my keys! The dogs were getting a bit concerned over my rapid departures and arrivals. The master, he goes insane now. So sad ... so sad. Now, time to lick myself!
Right about the time I was nearing the final phase of the Search and Recovery for the Twin Tyrants, the skies opened up and the light rainfall became a torrential downpour. Those are the Torrential Downpour ... official designation by the often hyperexcitable weather folk. It was accurate this time around. The excessive precipitation caused the standard panic on the roads and ate up the buffer time I allocated for the short trip. I did manage to make the deadline and escort the kids to the pool with seconds to spare. Only to find that Mrs Wilda was no-where to be found. The other mother there with her child noted her absence and I made the obvious deduction that she was probably delayed due to the inclement weather situation. Eventually, Mrs Wilda, her husband and their Daughter arrived and everything was fine. Till the lightning started to strike. Yep. Winter Lightning. Everyone was required to leave the indoor pool because ... it's a metal building. Of course. Urgh. Rules are rules and after the second strike (each requiring a 10 minute wait), I called it quits. Well, this command decision did not go over well with the tyrants. The immediately started their evasion techniques as I tried to corral them and put their towels on. The whole time they were screaming for Mrs Wilda and doing the usual 'dual-direction split' maneuver in order to fluster me. The onlookers were initially amused till they became obstacles and found that a 3.5 year old can get up a bit of steam before using the back of your calves as a buffer stop. Eventually, I calmed them by lying and telling them that we could come back on Saturday. I reeeaallly feel bad about that. No, really, I do! Of course, karma was an instant bitch and the kids started demanding their 'post-swim dum-dums'. You do know I forgot those. Instantly, the outrage was professed and I had to lie AGAIN and tell them that Mommy had them ready at the restaurant. I'm going to hell.
I met the Lovely and Patient Wife at Angelo's Italian restaurant after we had wrapped up the swim session and 'escaped' the dead-locked parking lot. We had a fine meal where Jake was being his usual grubby-touchy self and generally making a mess. Alexis announced that she had to poop and afterwards gave an in depth evaluation of her bowel movement including color, magnitude and velocity. Darling, you make daddy happy knowing you will not date till you are 30.
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