...is why I shouldn't answer my phone
This morning was one of the mornings that I had a carload of children to drop off at school. So, five kids lighter, but still one huffish* four-year-old burdened, I was looking forward to a few minutes of hiding in a closet or somewhere equally peaceful when I made it home. I barely had my jacket off when the phone rang. Who calls at 8am? People in distress-- right? There are, literally, only a handful of people I answer the phone for anyway; this was not a caller on my ultra-exclusive list. Because of the time, I answered.
Can you believe that no one is dead? Hospitalized? In a coma (other than me)? I answered the phone and sacrificed an hour of my life for, essentially, tosh**. I had to make corn dogs for His Majesty, The Sausage King, Grand Duke of French Toast, Puppy Prince in a Previous Life, because he was hungry (an hour after breakfast) and I was doing my best to listen to my caller. I made corn dogs at eight-thirty in the morning. While "talking" on the phone.
And this is mom's fault. I know you already know why, but here it is: 1) She raised us to be too nice, 2) Her relatives are talkers, and 3) We became power multi-taskers under her care.
Sisters, I feel like you owe me for this one since I answered the phone to spare you.
My Wednesday Words:
*huffish (adj.):sulky
**tosh (n.):BOSH;TWADDLE; sheer nonsense
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Corn Dogs in the Morning...
Posted by Margaret at 9:09 AM
Labels: Crazy Things, Family Life, Word War
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4 comments:
Mom did raise us to be too nice, and people just give me weird looks when I tell them that. We're just TOO NICE!
And did I miss who specifically it was who called you...?
You poor, poor thing. He used to call me as early as SEVEN AM--right after I had my baby! Why?? Because he figured I would be up! We are WAY too nice. The multi-tasking thing (thanks mom) is not necessarily bad, though it only further reinforces our identities as MacStewarts. Crazy MacStewarts, that is.
Oh yeah, one more thing...you actually feed your kids corn dogs? What's wrong with you? There is a serious "Eeewwwww" factor there!
I don't bring that stuff into the house! But when it appears, the boy WANTS it. I can't even imagine eating those!
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