Drew walked out the door bright and early this morning mumbling something about a Fantasy Baseball Draft. I imagine we won't see him again until this time tomorrow. An MIA Daddy meant that I had to take my two little angels to the gym with me this morning. They had a great time in the kids' clubhouse because their best friends Julia and Eve were there. Usually when I go in to pick them back up, they run toward me and wrap their little arms around my sweaty body. But today, they couldn't be bothered to even wave hello. I spent 20 minutes convincing them that we had to leave. It probably would have taken 40 if I hadn't thought to promise them that they could eat their chicken nuggets in the basement when we got home. For whatever reason, eating in the playroom is the biggest thrill of their young lives. I don't question it, I just use it to my advantage.
Soon we were loaded in the car, Happy Meals at the ready with home on the horizon. As I was in the driveway backing the car up for the fourth time in my ill-advised attempt to make it fit into that narrow little garage space, I heard Chase call my name.
Mama: Yes?
Chase: Are you steering Mama?
Mama: I guess you could call it that.
Chase: You're not very good at it, are you?
Mama: How much did Daddy pay you to say that?
Chase: What?
Mama: Because I'm willing to double whatever it is if you remind him about the time he drove away from the gas pump with the nozzle still in the car.
Chase: Sure Mama Sure.
Haha!
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