Living in a new house in a new city with no furniture and no routine and a toddler who’s getting bored is fun. Really fun.
Okay it sucks.
I think I officially ran out of patience today. And my husband is sick again, so he’s not the happiest camper either.
I tried to address the situation by taking Connor to the park today to frolic in the snow and build a snowman, but it was a spectacular failure. (Did you read The Snowman Test of Motherhood? I haven’t passed yet.) Between that, a request to “fix” his Lego monster truck 46 times, and one of those million-questions kinds of days, I had had enough by about 3 p.m.
That’s probably when I should have realized going to a restaurant across town for dinner with my mother-in-law was a bad idea. But no! We had a gift certificate and we wanted to go because it’s a place we like. Let’s just say it didn’t go so well, and that’s why my husband and I looked at each other across the table and laughed when this conversation took place:
Connor: “Dad, why did you give me ALL the croutons?”
Dad: “Because that way you’ll have them if she comes back and asks if we’re done with this bowl.”
Connor: “Did you say ‘if we’re done with this BOY‘?”
[Commence smirking.]
What? You would have found it appealing too. At least the salad bowl doesn’t poke other diners and talk in an outside voice in the middle of the restaurant.
