It started at 5 a.m. with the arrival of a noisy dog who thwumped down on our bedroom floor. Hoping to discourage her by playing possum, I didn’t move, and I managed to go back to sleep.
Pure Luck? Not so much. Since he had planned to hike today, and the sun was up, he crept out and hit the road about 5:15 a.m.
When I woke up at 5:42 a.m., did I remember, rationally, that he had a hike planned, and then tell myself, reasonably, that he must have left early, taking advantage of the lovely morning?
Um, no. I had a little nutty. You know, the kind where you start off thinking he’s wearing his headphones, then progress to looking for his dead body, then think, he’s going to wish he was when you look out the window and see the car is gone.
Thank goodness he was still in cell phone range.
Not to be outdone, Snowman called me at the office this afternoon to report his iPod is missing. Remember how I backed over his iPod, which he dropped when given a lot of things to carry just before Christmas? And then we all felt terrible about it and wondered how he would live without portable music, so I found the money to replace it?
Repeat the list above.
Of course, there’s always the possibility that someone stole it at school today. (Let’s not even go there. Have you seen how helpful Apple is with lost or stolen items? They suggest reporting it to the police, even though the thief will surely plug in to a computer to download more typically teenage music than the material on Snowman’s highbrow iPod, and wouldn’t you think Apple could flag it as coming from a non-typical source? I mean, you know they could if they wanted to do it.)
In other phone-based parenting news, I talked The Princess through unloading the dryer, moving her clothes over from the washer and most of the way through starting another load. The last bits were too confusing and required an on-site consultant, her brother.
Meanwhile, at church, it’s the closing dinner of the program year for an adult fellowship group, and I put the wrong time in the bulletin yesterday. And when I announced it, I asked to be sure it was right. But no one said anything. Apparently there is some unpleasantness coming. It’s a good thing we have a therapy dog coming (Molly is the subject of my remarks this evening and will be making an appearance).
I’m beginning to understand the desirability of Monday as a day off, because after a big Sunday, I have a lot fewer resources for dealing with life’s vicissitudes.