I vaguely remember a time when weekends were relaxing. There was a seemingly brief period between finishing college and having children when I recall being able to sleep past 8am almost every Saturday. Perhaps in 2023 when the little two graduate from high school, I will buy black-out drapes and sleep until noon.

Speaking of which, my husband has selective hearing. (Don’t they all?) I am often woken up on weekend mornings by a mysterious thud, clang or slam – and he sleeps right through it! The boys have the chance to earn extra paperclips for letting me sleep past sunrise, but even bribery doesn’t always work. Alas, this past Saturday the ruckus was due to one of the 5yos trying to get the gallon jug of milk out of the fridge to fix his own bowl of cereal. Granted, they are allowed to eat breakfast before we get up, IF a) one of the big kids is awake, and b) one of the big kids does the pouring. Apparently, he didn’t want to wait for his big brothers to get around to pouring the milk, so he decided to do it himself.

… Glass bottle of [new] bbq sauce shattered on the kitchen tile.

… Puncture wound in his little palm from trying to dispose of the evidence bare-handed.

… Trip to urgent care to see if the deep cut needed stitches.

Thankfully, there was no glass left in the wound, and they recommended glue over stitches. Hopefully someone has learned his lesson that there’s a reason why we say certain things are for the big kids to do!

On Sunday, we had a repeat performance – although, thankfully, no injuries this time ! No. 3 dropped his rice bowl (we use primarily plastic dishes, but we use ceramic rice bowls for small servings), and it, too, shattered on the kitchen floor. It was empty, and it broke into large pieces, but I immediately hollered, “Freeze!” which made him cry, b/c he thought he was in trouble. I tried to explain that I didn’t want him to step in it and get cut. I swept up the busted bowl and chalked it up to another excuse to visit the Asian food market the next time we’re in Dallas.

Someone asked me in the elevator at work, “How was your weekend?” Hahaha – how do I even begin to answer questions like that?