Green Pants in the Rain is Better Than No Pants in the Rain

Praise the Lord, it has rained all day.  Lovely lovely dark rain.  The kind where all forms of productivity are put on hold.  And your couch gets a little extra wear and tear.  Or maybe it's just a big indent.  Bigger indent.  And a few more crumbs and greasy smears appear.  And dishes collect on the floor surrounding the couch.  It's most certainly couch day.

I love wearing couch clothes, which consist of . . .  Green sweatpants with a huge grease smear on my left upper thigh.  That would be from last nights dinner.  I made salt block stew.  And it landed on my pants because everybody loved it that much.  Also on the left leg, I have dried on yogurt that fell on the floor this morning and splattered all over . . . my green sweatpants.  On my right leg, upper thigh region, I have smeared ricotta cheese from last nights salt block stew.  Ed was so pleased when he took his first bite, that he immediately shoved both hands into his mouth, gagged, and spit everything onto the floor.  There were tears involved and very messy ricotta fingers that landed on my green sweatpants.  On the top region of my hot bod, I'm wearing a red zipper hoodie.  The sleeves are a tad too small as well as the bodice.  But it is too comfy not to wear.  On my left sleeve (right on the ribbed portion) I have a large gob of rubbed into exploded yogurt.  It's crunchy and looks as though it's fading the red coloring of my sleeve.

I do not feel like a queen today.

Now today is Mom Group.  Actually, it's when Betty Boop and I get together and smile and nod, because nobody else comes to it.  Bom Group starts at 10am and I was feeling a bit adventurous.  Adventurous actually spelled out is:  No food in the house/starving. So I decided that a trip to the grocer was in order AFTER I dumped yogurt all over my Christmas outfit with approximately 20 minutes to spare before Betty Boo and crew arrived.  I love to work under pressure.  I perform so much better and efficiently..

I rush my list together.  Grab my phone, keys, and money (budget - can't just use credit card *said in a really obnoxious whiny snarly voice*)  Actually remembered to remind Murnice to use the bathroom.  (For whatever reason, she will only go if told to go . . . *growling*)  And put Ed's shoes on.  And then remembered that Ed was not wearing a diaper, and we have never left the house without a pee-catcher.  I left the lights on with the music.  (Sometimes I like to come home with the lights and music on.  It makes me feel like my house is welcoming me back.  And I feel loved and wanted.)  *Dear Jesus, please please please put a plug on Ed's urine production*  Where's my shoes.  "Murnice, grab the bags!"  No blue, Ed.  It has to stay home.

Mad chaos that lasted about 49 seconds.  And then we all tumbled out the door.  (Tumbling actually happens, because when the Witherhalls try to leave their house, the children rush forward, which makes it near impossible to open the door.  Once the door is actually opened and all the children have moved accordingly, after being clunked on the head with bags, and toes have been properly stepped on, and noses have been crammed in corners,  we - the adults, then have to open another door.  The screen door.  That door has to be pushed out.  There are always children plastered up against the screen door which can only lead to tumbling out onto the stoop.  Every time, this routine gets me really excited.)

So we make it outside onto the stoop and Murnice takes off to the car.  It's raining quite heavily.  Ed on the other hand doesn't want to move.  More like, he's in a magical place and can't think about anything else besides the earth's gift of rain.  And puddles.  So that means Mother and her new blue leather bag must haul Ed to the car.  And all you mother's know that sticking a child in a carseat when it's raining, is almost as bad as going to bed with your socks on.  Half of you is in the car, the other half is hanging out.  THE WORST.  And Ed, like most children I'm sure, just looks out into the world unable to do anything helpful.  "You want me to put my arms in the straps?  Well, I'm just going to sit here nicely with my hands folded in my lap".  Locked up with tetanus.  Unwilling to move.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME???!!!!!  Do you think I enjoy getting my bottom half washed.  All slippy slimy, moist and damp?  While I wrestle your arms into their rightful spot.  Moments like those make me as pleased as punch.  Pleased. As. Punch.

We got to the grocer in record time.  Was only almost hit once due to the poor new parking lot set up.  We hustled. We rolled.  I whispered a lot of anti-pee slogans.  And then I noticed it was Grandma day.  And you just can't roar around with Grandmas everywhere.  They are just too sweet and startily. So we kept our wheel squealing to a minimum and grabbed our 5 +3 items.

With a friendly reminder to wear my hat in the rain, from a 'helping hand' - we screeched back home only 30 seconds over our time limit.  And do you know what the first thing Betty Boop said to me?

"NICE GREEN PANTS!!!"  Actually she hollered this to me.  From her car.

And that's how the beginning moments of my day went.

Take Aways
1)  Never invite Betty Boop over when you're wearing green pants
2)  Wear your hat in the rain
3)  And never bring the children anywhere while it's raining
4)  Unless they can get themselves buckled up
5)  Actually, just stay on your couch.  Forever.
6)  An interview question I had yesterday:  interviewer -   "Do you have a favorite location in the world"    Foxy - "My couch"
7)  I'm not ashamed by that answer.  Unlike Big D who almost died when I told him.
8)  Ed did not pee his pants. That would have added a whole new element to the post if he did.
9)  There is nothing of significance to this post - minus a look into my ridiculous mom life.