Swimming Spider Scare Shakes Up New Jersey Residents
Two more birthdays have come and gone. Connor is five, and Riley Katie is two. We celebrated with a Marines birthday dinner for Connor and a “lovely lady” dinner for Riley Kate.
Also on Connor’s birthday, we took him out for lunch at Applebee’s, where the waiters sang and brought him a cake. He saw them approaching and sputtered, “What?—are they…?—who?—“ before shooting me the world’s dirtiest look. They placed the cake in front of him and he looked straight ahead and began eating and completely froze out the singing birthday waiters. He didn’t even make eye contact. After they left, Chris began to ask, “Connor, why didn’t you---“ Connor interrupted with, “I’m too shy,” then refused to allow the subject to be broached again for the rest of the evening. Alrighty then! Connor received plenty of cool presents (including money—“I’m rich!”), the favorite being his new police officer costume (complete with handcuffs, God help us all).
Riley Kate enjoyed hearing the birthday song sung to her; so much so that she asked incessantly for us to sing again if she felt that we might be veering onto any topic not related to her birthday or the fact that she was the special birthday girl. She also received monetary gifts in the mail (“monies! It’s my monies!”), as well as a Snow White costume and a swing for her doll.
Chris has begun his last 16 weeks of school—this is both good and not-so-good. The not-so-good part lies in the knowledge that for five hours per night, two nights per week for the next 16 weeks, I will be home alone with nine children, one of whom has made herself a home at my breast. Tonight, for example, I attempted to bathe Connor, Rory and Riley Kate while nursing the baby. Not usually an impossible task, except that the 9 year old and 11 year old launched into a war while I was trying to wash the kids. After breaking up the fight, I returned to the tub to discover that Riley-Kate had decided to prey on Rory’s Achilles heel (fear of spiders) by telling him that there was a swimming spider in the tub, ready to bite him. She’s such a sweetheart. Meanwhile, Connor drained the tub, reasoning that a swimming spider would be helpless in an empty tub. After filling the tub for the second time, I wrestled a fearful Rory into the water just long enough to rinse him off before he ran, dripping and screaming, from the bathroom.
The Gipper is still a champ in the sleep department, despite my regularly forgetting to knock wood and throw salt over my shoulder or whatever the process is for retaining a good sleeper while still boasting about it.
It’s time for me to stop procrastinating and stand eye to eye with the beast… It’s time for me to fold the laundry. Adieu.
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