But for the last month and a half, he has been grounded. Which means he has been at home. Well, working still (thank goodness), but at least in the same state as the rest of his family. Except when he was on vacation. Then he wasn't working. But really, he was, because there's no rest when you are a member of a family. And believe you me, I took full advantage of that fact.
While PB&J was stuck at home he:
- did dishes
- took out garbage
- woke up kids
- made breakfast
- went to the grocery store
- helped with homework
- enforced piano practicing
- made a pinewood derby car
believe it or not
- he even helped make the bed.
It was awesome.
Except now. Back in December, PB&J inadvertantly planned a trip to Washington D.C. for this week. By inadvertantly, I mean he didn't realize the significance of this week in history until after the trip was planned. Do you know what other somewhat significant event happened this week in The District? Besides a visit with my sister, Farm Girl, and her husband, Mr. Beaver Mountain? (Of which I am insanely jealous.) A little transfer of power? Remember that? Oh yeah. So, PB&J left on Monday, leaving the state of our union in my hands.
(As he drove through The District Monday night, talking to me on the phone, he unrolled the window of his car, and stuck his cell phone outside so I could hear the sounds of all the helicopters flying overhead. It was loud. It sounded like a scene in a movie. Weird.)
I hope things go smoother in DC than they have here where the executive branch of the family is now solely my responsibility (for a couple of days.)
I realize now I didn't appreciate PB&J's presence enough. Since he's been gone:
I haven't been able to sleep at night.
I worry about strange gasoline-like smells in the garage --- and I've even planned our escape route should my car spontaneously combust.
And then, to add insult to injury,
this morning, I pried myself out of my bed and woke the kids up, only to discover:
There was no milk in the fridge!
And no milk in the backup fridge.
The kids are threatening to impeach me.
PB&J, please come home.
We need you.
The kids need you.
The fridge needs you.