For 13 years we did
pretty cool fabulous things. We frequented Chicago Symphony performances. We attended dinner parties in the Western Cape of South Africa.
We had friends.
fabulous pretty cool.
Now we take the baby and the two-year-old to Target on Friday night because our apartment is like the fiery inferno in the summer and all we ask for in life is to breath some conditioned air that doesn’t smell like beef. Still, its not easy leaving the house. The boys have food on their clothes and everyone is lucky if I wear a bra. The Dark Knight always looks great.
Siegfried lacks the ability to pronounce a "Y" or an "S" at the beginning of a word. We overlook this shortcoming because he is two.
"Siegfried, can you say STRIPED SHIRT? SSSSTRIPE. SHHHHIRT."
We make it past the clothing and towards the toy station. Siegfried is unique in his inability to understand that these toys are available for purchase.
He just wants to play. And we have nothing better to do so we let him.
The Dark Knight and I take the opportunity to cool off and rest our tired brains.
Oh yeah, and Boy is there.
At some point the toy section ends.
Then Boy starts making the Bad Noise.
And I decide we need to hydrate with Slurpees
The Dark Knight brings us our Slurpees and we sit in the one corner of the eatery that most resembles a cave. The Dark Knight gets coffee because he has a PhD and those kinds on people don’t drink Slurpees.
The creatures and I slurp.
All is quiet.
Then I give Boy a taste because I am a genius.
At first he is apprehensive.
And then his Hungry Arm starts rotating.
And then I can’t shovel it in fast enough.
The Dark Knight has finished his coffee and the caffeine has allowed him to temporarily predict the future.
…and tragedy strikes.
The world slows to the speed of
water sap. The Dark Knight and I, triggered by a probable toddler apocalypse and fueled by caffeine and Slurpee, spring into super-human action.