We went on a trip to go see the Grandmothers and Papa this weekend, because Dixie needed to go see the dentist and pediatrician for general 4-year-old checkups. After learning of Dixie's 3 cavities on those pesky hard-to-brush back molars, we came home to find our house a charming 94 degrees. So I called around to my friends to see who had fans available for the borrowing.
On my way to Christine's, I came to the top of a hill to discover a car waiting to turn. He was stopped. I was not. Fill in the rest with your imagination.
My neck, shoulder, back and head are aching and sore. My knee also has a large, unsightly bruise from hitting the steering wheel. Fortunately, no children were in the car. Unfortunately, my Sweet Jenny (97 Dodge Intrepid) is in the vehicular version of the ICU and unlikely to muster a recovery.
I loved that car.
So if you don't see me around much lately, it is because I am on the phone trying to get the following household items fixed: washer, dryer, computer, DVR (think TIVO), TV, phone, air conditioner and, now, car. With three very small children in tow.
To tide you over in my (likely) absence is the following conversation held in the one-seater convenience store restroom in Goldthwaite, TX.
Mommy: Hurry up, Dixie. Mommy needs to pee-pee, too.
Dixie: But I have to check my bottom for poop to see if I need to poop.
Mommy: Okay, but hurry, I need to pee-pee.
Melody: Why do you need to pee-pee, mommy?
Mommy: Because my pee-pee is saying, "Hurry, quick! Let me out! I need to be free!"
Melody: You do know, mommy, that your pee-pee can't really talk, right?