Nights have been late around the Hamakko house lately. Of course these days “late” means anything after eight o’clock.
I’m not quite sure how it happens. I suspect there may be a black hole somewhere in my living room. It’s the only theory that makes sense when you think about it. The constant disappearance of socks, HRH’s frequent insistance that he has no clean underwear in spite of me washing them daily: all of these things cannot simply be coincidence. They point to a common cause. Since we know it certainly can’t be an inefficient housewife then it must be the black hole.
But that is beside the point. Me Too has been up too late several days in a row. Thus we have had the pleasure of several detours into Breakdown Central.
(;_;)
She was up past nine last night. That’s like me being up till 2 am. Or a college student waking up at 8am. I was expecting a grumperific mess, but she was amiable enough. Until lunch.
We’d planned to go to Bubby’s after English class. They have great pie and coffee, two of the four southern food groups. (The remaining two are chicken and cheese grits, in case you didn’t know.)
The line was crazy long, though, so we decided to go to TGI Friday’s instead. In any other instance in any other family, any other kid would be happy with that.
But Me Too lost it.
It took a while to figure out what “it” was: apparently at some point in the distant past someone at Bubby’s gave her a balloon. With a string. This, apparently, was highly preferable to the balloon animals kids get at TGI.
Cause we never go to restaurants for food, right?
Of course being famished just made the situation worse. Daddy promised Sister he’d take her to the balloon store if she’d eat her lunch.
Enter problems A)there is no such thing as a balloon store, B)Me Too has a memory like an elephant, and C)HRH is a dumbass to promise A to B.
Ended up doing the world’s fastest run-through at Toysrus, and this is what we ended up with. LOTS of fun bringing it home by train.
HamakkoMommy 