The other day was a busy one - Mike was due to come home and the house still looked as though a bomb went off. I managed to convince the kids to help me out for a couple hours (amazing, right?), and then they took off and did their own thing outside.
Ben was being a bit stubborn that day, and was in full refusal mode about getting dressed. Not really a big deal as we live on an acreage and it was hot out - all the more power to him if he wanted to rake grass in his ginch.
I decided that for supper that night, we would just run to Subway and pick something up. Normally the kids stay in the car and watch a movie while I quickly run in and grab the subs. I piled all the kids in the car, briefly thought about making Ben get dressed, then decided that world war 3 could be fought about something different. Off to the store we went.
Midway through ordering the subs, I happened to look out the window. There's my Ben, trying to do cartwheels in the parking lot in just his ginch and that's it - not even any shoes. His brother and sister were hanging out the car windows, cheering him on.
Sigh. I had to leave the line up, go holler at him to get back in the car, and return to many snickers and some outright laughter as I finished my order. Safe to say I will not be able to return to Subway for at least a couple weeks.
There are some days when I just wish I could be rescued from the madness . . . thank goodness for Gin. Lots and lots of Gin.
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