So we had this local pumpkin festival thing this weekend, and I didn’t take the kids. At all.
Friday night we could’ve attended the “festival opening,” but I was still feeling pretty sick and crummy.
Saturday we had a soccer game and then I made the children go bed shopping with me, because THAT’s the sort of memory I figure contributes to a fulfilled childhood.
Today we went to church and drive right past the pumpkin festival on our way home, and all I could think was that I needed to at least go home and take off my uncomfortable shoes and change my clothes, first, knowing even then that I would not drive back to it later.
But you know, I have a few problems here. First, I’m not really certain why pumpkins need their own festival. I mean, good on ’em and everything, but what happens at this festival? People try to sell you things. You walk around either buy things or listen to the children whine about all the things they want you to buy that you are too mean to buy. It doesn’t make a lot of sense to me.
Next, we had other things we needed to do today, like clean up the house. My perpetual disagreement with the kids over whether the playroom and their bedrooms really NEED to be tidied is alive and well.
[RESOLVED: That once the carpet is completely obscured from view, I get to threaten to throw all of your stuff away.
REBUTTAL: You are mean. And we have more important things to do, like dumping entire cups of water down the couch behind the cushions, and also colliding into each other like drunk weasels.
OUTCOME: The debate is declared a draw.]
And lastly? I’m tired. Yeah, I’m tired because I’m still getting over being sick, but that’s not it. We just have someplace to GO and things to DO every freaking day of the week. EVERY DAY. I sometimes LIKE to stay home. I just wanted to stay home and do NOTHING this afternoon. Is that so wrong?
Well, that depends on whether or not there’s a corn maze. Clearly.
Hey, it’s not like I made them going shopping for a dust ruffle with me, or anything. (That’s the one thing I realized I’d forgotten to buy for the new bed, and as the mattress weighs 200 pounds it behooves me to have that ready upon delivery, rather than trying to put it on, myself, afterwards.) That would’ve been cruel and unusual punishment. I simply… stayed home… and told them to pick up and play nicely with each other.
My poor, deprived children.