Hello all. Ok, so tonight was what you might call a multi-occasion celebration. My sisters and I, and our families, went out to my parents’ house to celebrate the birthdays of The Boy and my youngest sister, and for Mother’s Day. Dad was going to grill for us, but he ended up letting my Bro-in-law, Melon Head, do it for him, because he overdid it on the lawn mowing today.
Anyway. I already had one cranky teenager, because wouldn’t you know it, her baby brother’s birthday had the bad luck to be on the same weekend as her best friend, who was turning 16. Now if you were a teenager, which event would be higher on your priority list- your baby brother’s 9th birthday or your Bff’s Sweet 16? Your Bff’s, natch! Of course it would. So Daughter J.’s best friend’s party was a sleepover at a hotel in town, so they could swim. Well actually, this event lasted several days. Apparently they had a sleepover at their house on Thursday night, and they’ve been at the hotel last night and tonight. Or maybe it was just Friday night at their house and tonight at the hotel. Either way, we’re talking about a significant portion of time. So I had the audacity to make Daughter J. stay with the family on Thursday night so we could celebrate as a family on The Boy’s actual birthday. I took them swimming at the YMCA and we ate at Burger King. Not exactly a high class evening, but hey- it was all Little Man wanted.
So then I let Daughter J. go to her friend’s house after we got home Thursday night and they were getting ready for bed. They didn’t have school Friday, for some reason, so her friend wanted Daughter J. to stay the night and “help her do some stuff.” Let me just add that we had been going round and round about this all week, her begging to go to her friend’s birthday events and me telling her that family was more important and if she didn’t back off and quit bugging me, she wouldn’t get to go to any of it. We were trying to swing it so that she could be at both.
Anyway, long story short, she had been at L.’s house from Thursday night at about 10:00 to today when I picked her up from the hotel at about 4:15. We went to Mom’s and she proceeded to hide out in the back room, watching videos or whatever she was doing, barely participating in the fun family togetherness, frowning and sighing with regularity. She had made me quite aggravated when when I got to the hotel and she wasn’t ready to go, after Grandma had told her I’d be coming to get her around 4-ish, and she needed to be ready. Where was she? In the pool, of course, which necessitated that I wait for her to change her clothes and gather her stuff. Mom had told her that my middle sister could take J. back to the hotel on her way home, but I told her she wasn’t coming back because she didn’t do as she was told. This did not make her very happy. The friend’s mom tried to help J. out by saying she was going to go get J. and have her ready to go, but she forgot or something.
So, back to the party. In addition to Cranky Daughter J., I also had Cranky Daughter S. Now, to be fair, Daughter S. was not cranky until it was approximately 9:45 p.m. and we had consumed roughly enough food to feed an entire NFL team (burgers, dogs, chips, guacamole, veggies, cake, ice cream, and giant cookie), and then played a rather interesting family game of baseball. **As a sidenote here, I would have sold my left arm to have a video of my sister chasing her husband with the bat for distracting her when she was trying to bat, or some similar offense. Furthermore, this sister is quite possibly the most competitive person I’ve ever known, and cannot have her picture taken without looking high. Just in case her identity is ever in question.**
Anyway. Daughter S. was not cranky through all this. She took a turn at bat a few times, hung out in the outfield, etc. It was only when we finally got ready to go after she’d been nagging for twenty minutes, (here comes the turtle part) and Little Man was wanting to bring home the turtle he’d found in Grandma’s back yard and been carrying around all night, that she got really cranky. I have several theories as to why this might be. One: I told The Boy he was not bringing the turtle home with us, and he cried and begged and pleaded and frothed at the mouth and I gave in. Two: she desperately wants a cat and I do not wish to provide a home to a cat. We already have in the back yard three dogs that she hates passionately. Daughter J. feeds them sporadically and refuses to let us consider getting rid of them when we say that the poor dogs deserve a more attentive family. So when I let The Boy bring home the turtle, she quite resented it because she would be the only kid in the family without a pet. Not entirely an unreasonable feeling. And Three: the turtle is a wild thing and we were taking it from its home, and she feels highly sensitive about most wild things and them being taken from their homes. Also not an unreasonable feeling.
I felt guilty, so on the way home I told The Boy that the poor kidnapped turtle could come home for a sleepover, but tomorrow after church, we are taking him back to Grandma’s house. Poor kid. He’s desperate for a turtle, but he killed the last one he had by taking a hot bath with it. And no, I’m not kidding. It was quite possibly the most traumatic thing that has ever happened to the poor child, aside from divorce and fire and natural disaster.
This may be my longest post ever, so thanks for reading. I’ll let you know if we manage to return Mr. Turtle to his home before he passes from this life.
Until next time,