Sunday, January 18, 2009

Four Hundred Pounds

But an otherwise utterly unremarkable weekend: Im Westen Nichts Neues.

During which we managed to:

1. Make a Class I resupply run to the WinCo in the 'Cuve, where we also managed to avoid the dreaded Bin World Dumpster Dive (wherein one or more children does a front lay-out into the Sticky Sweet Candy Bin and emerges with a face full of pure high fructose corn syrup).

2. Stop at Home Depot and pick up all the remaining interior mouldings for Maxine's bedroom.

3. Play repeated games of Monster Daddy and the Screaming Children; once on the playset, once in the living room...I lose track. Lots, anyway. Plus piggyback, race cars, and read "Owl Babies" and "Daisy Comes Home" repeated times.

4. Try on Missy's new Big Girl Undies - which she loves WAY more than diapers, although not as much as going "'mando" (commando, that is).

5. Move an entire truckload of assorted clothes, toys, games, books and household items to the Goodwill.

6. Eat some curly fries.

7. Truck four hundred pounds of dimension lumber and a scattering of debris to the transfer point (i.e. the dump).

8. Enjoy a brief but delightful visit from Thor and her entourage. She is almost as adorable as Little Miss and a WHOLE lot bigger and stronger. What a sweetiepie!

9. Bike (Peeper and Missy), scooter (Mojo), and walk (me) down to our little McKenna Park, around and back to Astor School and then home to enjoy the chilly but prettily sunny day.

9. Enjoy a savory dinner of bratwurst with sauerkraut and apfelmus and a garden salad with pears, grapes, walnuts and chevre.

10 Blast our way through the Separatist's droid armies (me and the Peeper) or through the entire box of Legos (Missy).

11. And then to bed...

I don't know about you, but I'm beat!

So let's play you out with the Dance of the Sugar-fueled Plum-sauce-smeared Little Fairies from last week's company do at Edgefield:


The Wanderers' Daughter said...

I love that she knows the word for "going commando".

FDChief said...

WD: No colloquial expression for going pantiless (or underpantsless) is neglected around here. You never know when you may need it.

basilbeast said...

There's a line from the Roman poet Tibullus:

Quam potius laudandus hic est, quem, prole parata, occupat in parva pigra senecta casa.

How rather is he to be praised, whom lazy old age seizes after the kids are raised, in his tiny shack.


FDChief said...

Basil: let me offer you a different maxim by the military author I. Procuratio Presertim: "Quam quinymo est is futurus pitied ,quos in suus parva pigra seneca casa est carpo per liberi sit erigo."

"How rather is he to be pitied, who is seized by his own chidren in the tiny shack they dwell in."

walternatives said...

I was going to post a comment, but I'm a tad intimidated by all that Latin, you smarty pants.