This is one of my favorite lines from Shakespeare. Mercrutio utters this during Romeo and Juliet, a favorite tragedy of mine. I like to drop this line when I am really frustrated and need to say bad words, but want to remain classy. I have known to use this phrase during sporting events, political discussions, arguments with The Big D, driving in traffic, and sometimes in everyday conflict.
As I have lamented in previous posts, we are a very busy family. Like most other Americans with multiple children, we are often rushed to get from place to place just to rush to get somewhere else. I am not an organized person either. I have gotten better over the years as activities and ages of the Little Rains Children increase. Not that I really wanted to keep up with a family calendar, it was pure necessity.
Yesterday was one of those days that I felt like I was a mom tornado, a Mom-nado if you will. One task would be completed just for three more to take their place. Nick had a double-header baseball game in Edmond (about an hour away from the compound), Ella had basketball practice in Oklahoma City (about an hour away from the compoud), and Natey had baseball practice in our town. There are only two adults to transport children in our home.
Luckily, we have an awesome village that helps raise the children in our community. Natey was farmed out to his buddies house where he would be fed, taken to practice, dropped at another friend’s house to be bathed and ready for bed when we picked him up. We have really good friends.
So, The Big D and I headed south to the big city with the older children. We left the compound about ten minutes later than expected. Nick forgot his belt and his hat. I forgot to get gas for Lady Scarlet, and Ella is a 14-year-old girl (she’s delightful). After making it through rush hour traffic and The Big D discussing cows with his rancher-he slows down when he speaks on the phone for some reason-we made it in time for the game. Ella and I got to see Nick hit a nice shot to left field and then we were off to the basketball court.
We arrived back to the ball field sweaty and hot, well, I wasn’t but Ella was, we watched the end of Nick’s last game. The Perkins Mustangs 12u boys won both games. They are so cute and pretty good at the baseball.
By this time in the evening, my nerves are shot. Hot, tired, mentally drained from being stuck in a car with a teenager, I was done. My friend Kelley, who has Trey that is Nick’s bestie, left the game early to get home to Natey and her son Jace. We loaded up Trey and his dad Steve to ride home with us. We stopped to eat a burger and I was slowly entering the realm of mean mom. The kids were being kids, goofy around and eating their fries with their faces and not their hands, lying down on the booth bench, just being annoying. I kept it together until I got outside to the car. “Not Me” had left the back passenger door open for the entire time we were eating. Lady Scarlet had been left exposed.
We were in a nicer part of the city, but still, the door was wide open….for 30 minutes. Ella had her wireless BEATS on the seat, there were multiple bags of baseball equipment, $300 baseball bats, the list goes on. Since we were hosting our friends on the trip home, I didn’t yell. My eye twitched and I sighed loudly most of the drive home.
Trey and Nick are the Odd Couple of frienddom. I won’t go into all the ways they are a match made in heaven, but they get along well. They got the giggles. Then they got the farts. I begged them to cease and desist, yet they never relented. I gave up and played games on my new phone.
Steve commented to the car that for such bright, attractive, seemingly socially aware young men, they were not adept at reading the temperature of the room…or car. To which Trey let out a giant fart and Nick laughed until he cried.
A Pox On Both Your Houses.