and we never let that stop us..
Updated: Mar 16, 2020
So, today was our big homeschooling co-op day. Tuesdays will go down in infamy in my children’s minds the way gym locker rooms in the public schools go down in mine. In a word: overwhelming, yet a necessary evil. I love ’em and hate ’em all together. It’s kind of like fried chicken.
Fried chicken from Popeye’s– can it possibly get any more caloric, salty, greasy, savory and expensive? And all in half the time it takes to eat in a decent restaurant? I think not. And that is precisely why it is a treat. About once a year or so, I treat my kids to Popeye’s fried chicken. Today the weather was a balmy 64ish, and we had a gap of time in between our co-op and our gavel club. So, the kids decided we should go to the park and eat our “feast”.
So, before we got to the park, I asked the little one, “Do you have to go potty?” And like all little ones, she said, “No”
You would think after FIVE children, I would learn that kids always say NO, even if it’s been 12 hours since they’ve gone. The answer is always NO. It must be a real inconvenience or a sign of weakness to say “YES”. Yes, I am a human being and have to go potty..
Anyway, I just took her word for it, and we got in the car and drove to the park with the chicken. We no sooner got the chicken and sides unloaded at the picnic table, and guess who has to “go”? The only problem is that the bathrooms are about a half a mile away.
So, I said,” Hey, when I was a kid, growing up the U.P., we learned how to go behind a bush,”
All the kids groan…… “You are NOT doing that mommy. Take her to the bathroom. It’s your maternal duty.”
“Now wait a minute. There aren’t that many people here, and I’ll just take her to that clump of trees over there…”
“MOM! People are ubiquitous! You HAVE to take her to the bathroom!”
“Oh yeah? Well so is negativity, and we never let that stop us..”
(Why are people always trying to separate a perfectly content fried-chicken-eating mommy from her food??)
Nevertheless, I managed to get her to the bathroom before she exploded.
Is it possible that any of my kids won’t need therapy when they are adults?
And ubiquitous? What have I raised? a bunch of loquacious, sententious big shots that need to encourage me in my maternal duties? really.