It hurts his leg.

Today was our first day back to our home school co-op since the holiday break.  Despite massive preparations the night before to make the morning flow smoothly, I was still a disorganized, chaotic mess.

Are we surprised?  No.  No, we are not.

Working against me was my lack of:

a)  plastic sandwich bags

b) unused plastic food storage containers

c) plastic wrap

d) foil

Just try to pack lunches for 5 people without the above items.  Go ahead.  I dare you.

I remembered that once upon a time, I purchased sandwich bags to keep in the car, so I could easily bag up snacks if ever the need arose.

It appears that at one point in my life, I had a brain.

I sent Daisy Mae out to the car to get said bags.  She came in screaming her head off.

Yes.  She found two bags, but fell on the concrete patio, dropped one bag, and would, apparently, not be able to move or stop crying for the rest of her life.

So.  I had one, plastic sandwich baggie.  Go ahead.  Try to pack lunches for 5 people with one sandwich sized plastic baggie.  I dare you.

Then I remembered the camp trailer!  Yes!  The camp trailer!  So, I sent Sweet Pea out to the trailer and told her to find and bring back anything that could hold food.  She found the mother lode and brought back a plethora of sandwich bags.

Redemption!

After much running around, I finally had everyone dressed and fed, except for Handsome Dude.  Handsome Dude has a fear of everything, ever since his little accident.  One of those fears is now washing his hair.

The shower is out of the question.  Because the shower is the devil.  Clearly.

Putting a plastic trash bag (yes, I had those!) over his leg was out of the question so he could try a bath.

I resorted to sticking his head over the tub and washed his hair, forsaking the rest of his body.

Everything hurts his leg now.

Putting his underwear on.

Putting his pants on.

Brushing his hair.

Brushing his teeth.

Picking up his toys.

Eating his dinner.

Going to bed.

Not hitting his brother.

These are all the things that just cause his leg great agony.  Poor thing.

We were to leave no later than 9am.  At 9:15, I was half-dressed, running around, shouting for people to get GOING.  Then I had to load that darn fire.

Oh, how I loathe it.  It's just so tedious, you know?  And I always pick logs the wrong size and I have to go tromping back out to the wood pile.  And then I get a splinter and soot on my face and sap in my hair.  Super convenient.

But, alas.  If I do not feed the fire, our house will be a frigid tundra upon our arrival.

And that would hurt Handsome Dude's leg.

I run up the stairs and finish getting dressed.

I look at my girls and say:

"When you grow up, promise you will be more organized than me."

Daisy Mae:  What does that mean?

Sweet Pea:  She's talking about her clothes.  They don't match.  She wants us to match when we are older.

?

I totes matched.  For the record.

We get in the car and drive about a mile away when I started to do a run down on what we needed to bring.  Sweet Pea was supposed to pack a change of clothes for basketball practice.

Me:  Did you pack basketball clothes?

SP:  Yup!

Me:  You remembered basketball shoes, right?

SP:  Um . . .

Me:  Quick!  What shoes are you wearing?

SP:  My dressy boots.  Will those work?

*sigh*

So.  We had to turn around.  And, yes.  We were late.  Because we like to impress people like that.

Handsome Dude didn't want to go to his class.  Because it hurt his leg.

He didn't want to eat his bagel.  It hurt his leg.

The brownie was fine.

He didn't want to ever go back to co op again.  Because, "Mom.  You know my leg?  The one the log hurt?  It not feel good.  I can't go to school."

He could not be quiet at the library.  It hurt his leg.

Running around the library in complete book-ecstasy was completely fine, however.

He could not join us for dinner.  His leg would rather play puzzles.  Plus the soup was "lucky."

Lucky means "yucky."

But his leg would be able to join us when it was time for dessert.

That boy.

And I love him.

***

This post is really, really, pointless.  I am wondering what I even planned on blogging about?  I cannot be certain.  But I have made it this far.  There is no turning back.

***

You may recall that back in the day, Sweet Pea had planned a library birthday day with my dad.

My dad was aghast that I did not include this in the blog.

So, let the records show:

Sweet Pea and Dad went to two different libraries and stopped for a corn dog and ice cream sundae.

I have no pictures or humorous stories to share in regards to this information.  But it happened, nonetheless.

Consider yourselves informed.

Later, dudes.