One thing about motherhood that always amazes me is how I can wake up feeling hungover - without even sipping alcohol the night before. Last night I had to work and got home around midnight, right about the time Zachy was getting up to make sure I was back. So I hopped into bed with soaking wet hair, hoping he'd fall quickly back to sleep. (SIde note - this is one of the worst habits I have developed: Zach coming into our bed. We need to break the cycle,but are always too tired and it just seems so nice to be able to actually go to sleep that I forget to care that John, and not Zach, should be in the bed. I know. People are horrified when they hear about this.)
Since it was already morning when I went to sleep, the morning came quickly! We dropped Katy off at school and shot over to Hannaford's for milk and salad fixings for tomorrow's church potluck. At home I did my "morning routine" and then prepared to make break pudding, which the whole time I've been sick I've been craving. We didn't have enough eggs. What to do? I decided to do what any normal, overtired, sick Mommy would do - decided we should walk down to the co-op to buy some eggs. Honestly, it's a pretty nice day out, so I figured that a good two hour hike down to Main Street and back would keep us out of mischief, keep the television off for awhile, and get out some of their limitless energy. And it worked! We had a great time walking down, holding hands and sometimes pretending we were on a bear hunt. At the co-op we bought eggs, dishsoap and one of their favorite snacks - "pirate food." Now, a trip like this is never complete without one of those "oh-my-goodness! That did NOT just come out of your mouth" moments, so of course Gabe was kind enough to provide me with one. After passing "Mommy's work" we took a right onto Main St. and Gabe starting walking kind of funny. Then suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks and started pulling at the back of his pants. "My pants are too close to my bottom, " he said. Well, no problem. I discreetly tugged at his wedgie, and kept walking. But he did not. I turned around to see him doubled over, little blue sweatpant covered bottom straight in the air. He was not moving. "Mom," he called, " my bottom is itchy. Can you get it?"