Mr. Long-Suffering is taking a well-deserved break from the grind to go on a guys' weekend. I am not entirely sure what happens on a guys' weekend, but I think it might involve golf (although, he did not put the clubs in the car), beer or spirits, food (of the smoked meat variety, possibly jerky), and various disgusting bolidy functions (like belching and farting). And I am pretty sure the entire state of Wisconsin had better be prepared for this.
So, Chuckles was completely disheartened to learn that when Daddy left for work this morning that he would not be back until Sunday night (although, since his concept of time is fluid, he may not really notice...or it will seem like forever).
I tried to re-hearten Chuckles by telling him that he and mommy would have lots of fun this weekend. And fun we shall have. I need to make some calls, arrange a play date, and I don't know what else, but if we skip bath and instead I decide that being hosed off outside is close enough, there will be no second parent to second-guess my decision. And fruit is as good as a vegetable with dinner, and ice cream is OK because we need to eat our dairy. Or something.
I have a family situatiohn involving slightly less nuclear family members and I would love to tell you about it, but I feel wrong blogging about it. Let's see if I can make it up completley without giving away any details? This is, of course, all hypothetical: Let's say my "brother" lives out-of-town and has a "son". They will be in town visiting very close to my nephew's birthday. THe entire family has never seen my "nephew" for his birthday before. He's turning 4. My brother wanted, what I considered, a totally over-the-top party for his son. I suggested a swimming party at Mimi's house, but my "brother" kept leaning towards things like A! Dinosaur! THemed! Party! at the Field! Museum! or a Nemo Party at the Shedd Aquarium. You know, in Chicago. On a weekend. During the summer. When every single family in a three state radius comes to the city to do things of culture (especially one last time before school starts).
Finally, my "brother" settled on Build-A-Bear, which I thought was fine. We'd head to the mall and have air conditioned fun in the summer. Except instead of picking one of the eleventy Build-A-Bear workshops in the suburbs, my "brother" chose the one at Chicago's Navy Pier. On the weekend of the Air Show, when every person in a 3-state radius (actually, only 2 million people) come to the lakeshore to watch planes fly overhead.
Now, imagine that a Pier sticks out into the lake, so it is esentially the lakefront. Now, imagine 2 million people being there. Then, think about trying to find parking or imagine walking, while 6-months pregnant, the one mile from the train station to the Pier while pushing a stroller and dodging the slightly-inebriated Air Show revelers (and imagine that the train will be packed so with your stroller you will be forced to stand the entire 45-minute ride to the city). Then, if you can, imagine trying to get a 3-year old boy and a 33-year old man INSIDE when there are really cool military planes flying over your head but only if you stay OUTSIDE. You can see my dilemma.
But, as I told my "brother", I am your sister and I will be at the party no matter what. And I will. And I am sure it will go 8 times better than I ever could have imagined. And someone will fall asleep on the train ride home (hopefully, me).