I feel like I’ve hardly even talked about what we’ve been up to around here lately. I mean other than making habitats out of Cool Whip containers for doodlebugs and then leaving them there to die like some type of roly poly genocide.
(Speaking of, y’all were a wealth of bug information yesterday. And, yes, doodlebugs and roly polys are all the same to us, but I was struggling with the proper spelling of roly poly and so I went with doodlebug.)
(I had no idea it wasn’t a universal term.)
But given the fact that I wrote an entire post about finding doodlebugs, it’s probably safe to assume that not much has been going on here these days.
Last Friday was Field Day at Caroline’s school. Otherwise known as another way to fill the time during these last meaningless days of school that the legislature forces on everyone. So I went up to the school to watch all the Field Day activities and sweat my body weight in 142% humidity.
Fortunately, there were plenty of water-based activities to keep the kids cool.
Even though there were some geniuses who advised the kids they shouldn’t get too wet.
Yes. Because it’s perfectly reasonable to hand seven year olds buckets of water and water guns and ask them not to get wet.
But since I know my seven year old well enough to know that asking her not to get wet in the vicinity of water is like asking Justin Timberlake to not be awesome, I sent her with a dry change of clothes. And a towel.
There were all kinds of different games, races, and that type of thing, but my particular favorite was the Rubber Chicken throw. This involves a net and a variety of rubber chickens being hurled back and forth over it.
This is Caroline demonstrating perfect rubber chicken throwing technique.
That picture was taken right before I was hit in the head by a flying rubber chicken. The combination of the rubber material combined with the velocity of said chicken packed quite a punch. So I spent the rest of the day explaining that I had a headache because I got hit in the head by a chicken.
And, no, I didn’t explain that it was a rubber chicken because I wanted the whole thing to have an air of mystery.
After it was all said and done, Caroline was wiped out.
Or maybe she just had the eye of the tiger. I don’t know.
Then Friday night we picked up Chris Madrid’s tostada burgers (Chris Madrid’s is the best burger place in San Antonio. He’s not like our neighbor or something. Just wanted to clarify.) and watched Prince Caspian in our effort to embrace all things Narnia.
And then Saturday night we grilled fajitas and watched Voyage of The Dawn Treader.
C.S. Lewis would be so proud.
Then Sunday we all read aloud from Mere Christianity.
Not really. On Sunday I was busy having one of my worst parenting days ever. I can’t talk about it right now because it’s still not funny, but let’s just say we had our own d-list version of a four part Greek tragedy. Honestly it was more about me getting my feelings hurt than anything else. We got the whole thing resolved and issued tearful apologies all around and went to go see the movie Rio. Because nothing makes you feel better after a bad day of parenting than to go see some lame movie about two almost extinct blue macaws in Brazil.
Then we went to Gap to take back a pair of jeans I’d bought for Caroline.
(This is riveting. We ate fajitas! We ate hamburgers! We watched movies and returned a pair of jeans!)
Monday we rolled of bed and geared up for the last full week of school. And by geared up I mean that we screeched out of the driveway on two wheels to make it there on time. Barely.
I’ve spent the last few days running all the errands and doing all the things I planned to do all year long while Caroline was in school. But since I felt there was no challenge in spreading those things out over 180 days, I decided to try to get them all done in one week while running around like a chicken with my head cut off.
Or is a rubber chicken with my head cut off?
I’ll never tell.
I like to keep the air of mystery.