What was supposed to be a leisurely morning in my pjs enjoying chocolate chip pancakes turned into a mad dash to get the kids dressed, in the van, and off to my work....which is about 20 minutes away. Apparently, the only other 2 gals who cover the dept during the week were both OUT today! I threw on a sweatshirt and jeans, popped my unwashed hair into 2 little ponytails and off we went.....
After showing the frantic gal who had called me the "ins and outs" of the dept in a nutshell while simultaneously trying to convince Tate not to dig around in the trash and trying to keep the girls supplied with enough printer paper to doodle on, we headed back home.
It was about noon by this time and since I had left my perfectly browned pancakes sitting untouched on the counter, I was getting hungry. We started towards McDonalds. I try to tune out a lot of the girls' bickering and put myself in a "happy place" while we drive around town. On occasion, however, I pick up snippits of their arguments. I was none too pleased with the snippit I heard today.
I caught the tale end of Reese talking meanly to Drue, "...Drue! You #@%^&!". (It sounded like "witch" so use your filthy little imaginations).
"REESE!! What did you call her?!" I asked sternly. (I know, I know, we're not supposed to make a big deal out of naughty words that come out of our children's mouths. We are supposed to calmly instruct them on what words are and are not appropriate to say. But I just couldn't help myself. This is not a word that either me, or my husband use....ever!)
"Nothing", was, of course, her reply.
"No--what did you call her?!" I asked again.
"Ummmm....I called her....a butterfly?".
"I don't remember." she said, hoping that excuse would suffice.
"Oh, Ok. Well, I'll just hold on to your nuggets until you regain your little memory from the events which occurred a mere 5 seconds ago." Ha! Score 1 for ol' mom.
In the rearview mirror, I saw her little blond head hang in defeat.
"Mommy," she said quietly, "I do remember what I called Drue. I called her a....fish. I'm sorry Mommy."
Whew! Thank goodness. No additional stops to buy a bar of soap needed. Good thing, too, because I'm beat.