Facepalm and Flirty Toddler

This morning was one of those Monday mornings that was masquerading as a Tuesday.  I hate those little bastards.   I barely function coherently on  Tuesday mornings as it is, since I stay up late to watch Castle on Monday nights.  Usually a cup of coffee gets the old synapses firing and once again, all is right with the world.  But not this morning.  I seriously think I made Fakefish’s breakfast and lunch while still asleep.  It all passed in a fog, so there’s no telling what I actually packed in that poor man’s lunch box.  Beets with a side of sauerkraut?  A piece of cardboard smeared with cream cheese?  I’m not sure.  I hope he survives the day, as I am rather partial to him.

The Hobbit has a wee bit of a cold and with my slow motion speed, it was a miracle we made it out the door to get to pre-school on time, but we did.  I grabbed my keys, the kiddo had his school bag and was headed for the truck, when I locked the handle on the front door and went to go lock the deadbolt only to discover I had the wrong set of keys.  No house key, only the spare truck key.  Sigh.

I took the kid to school, went to Target for cat food ( they’ll eat my face off if I don’t feed them) and back home to get our spare key from the neighbors.  Only, they weren’t home.  ARGH.  Ok, not that big of a deal, I had another option and headed over to my mother-in-law’s house to borrow her key.  I rang the door bell and was enthusiastically greeted by her dog, Timmy, who would have gladly permitted me access if only he’d had opposable thumbs.  That wouldn’t have done me much good though, since my MIL wasn’t home and our key is on her key ring.

Good for What Ail's Ya

Things weren’t as bleak as they sound, though.  I had bought some chocolate at Target.  I could have stayed locked out of the house forever, as long as there was chocolate, because that makes everything all better, including Dementor attacks.  Yes, I think I’ll throw that in there and blame this entire thing on happiness-sucking fictional creatures.  Sounds good to me.

I blame the Dementors. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

I left my MIL’s house and stopped to buy  gas and to call my MIL  to see if she was anywhere within 20 miles of our zip code.  Thankfully, she was, and she was able to meet me at the house and let me in.  Also, by that time, one of the neighbors with our spare key had returned home, so one way or the other I was going to make it back into the house without breaking and entering.  Hooray!

My MIL stuck around for a bit and we chatted about the company that we’d had over the weekend.  One of my nephews (Micah) and his newly minted finance (Abby) were visiting.  She’s now met most of our family and is still willing to marry him, which could quite possibly make her the kindest, sweetest, most understanding human being ever.  The Hobbit has given Abby his seal of approval, too.  He talked to her right away, held her hand when we were out sight seeing, and was handing out hugs like they were going out of style.  He even cried when he learned that the happy couple would have to leave and we couldn’t keep them forever for him to play with, you know, like some really awesome pets just for him.  Usually he’s suspicious, cautious and pulls his Michigan J. Frog routine when meeting new people.

The best point came when we were driving to the BART station to drop off Abby & Micah.   Abby was scrunched in the middle of the back seat between the Hobbit in his car seat and Micah.  It was close quarters, but no one was complaining.  Micah had his arm around Abby, and she was holding the hand of the arm draped around her shoulders.  Not to be outdone by his cousin when it comes to winning the affection of Fair Maidens, the Hobbit looked over and with his big blue eyes in a Puss in Boots, awwwwww-inducing look, asked Abby to hold his hand.  To Abby’s credit, she let go of Micah’s hand to hold the Hobbit’s hand.  Micah thought it was funny.  Fakefish smiled and had that, “Yeahhhh, that’s my boy!” look on his face.  I figure Micah better watch out or the Hobbit will steal his girl away if he’s not careful, provided she’s willing to wait 15 years for him to be legal.

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