Good morning, everybody. Happy Monday.
Ordering coffee online is tricky. If you don't queue up the next order at the correct time, you could end up in my situation - buying a temporary bag of grocery store coffee until the new box arrives. This morning, I'm drinking something called "Sarah's breakfast blend". I don't know who this "Sarah" is, but I'm not going to hold back about how blithe, uninspired, and ineffective her breakfast blend is. But what can I do? I'm at the mercy of the United States postal service. May that mail truck move swiftly over these Midwestern planes so that our real coffee gets delivered safely.
Until then, Sarah's breakfast blend it is.
Sip. How are you feeling today? This Monday is beginning with more of a "whimper" than a "bang". These days, the weekends just don't feel long enough. It's nearly impossible to fit all the housework, napping, and hobby time into a narrow 2.25 day window.
We did our best, though. Rodney and I finally got our video game time. On Saturday morning, I hooked up the Xbox to the living room TV, and the two of us reprised our role as LEGO super heros. We bravely followed Magneto into his underground layer, fought off his henchmen, and defeated him by throwing a giant iron at his metal robot, and this was all doubly challenging because we had to keep a curious Miles from pressing buttons on our controllers.
In the evening after the kids went to bed, it was all hobbies, painting, and playoff hockey. The Blackhawks didn't even come close to making the playoffs this year. Perhaps out of jealousy, I was reluctant to watch other more successful teams compete for the Stanley cup, but I can't deny how exciting playoff hockey feels. It's a whole new level of intensity.
"I'm just cheering for Fleury," says Marissa. Our superstar goalie was traded to the Minnesota Wild just before the playoffs began. Though we miss Fleury's personality and competitive spirit on our team, he's hard not to cheer for even on a rival team. It's not all selfless, however. If the Wild win the conference championship, that activates a conditional trade clause where we get an extra pick. "We kind of have to cheer for them," laughs Marissa.
In other news, did you take care of the mother in your life yesterday? Rodney, Miles, and I pulled off a successful last minute Mother's day surprise. Rodney and I woke up early to sneak away and pick up breakfast from McDonald's. I sent Rodney upstairs to our bedroom with a plate of McDonald's hot cakes, and I followed him up the stairs with a jug of coffee.
Marissa was still asleep, so Rodney decided to wake her by dropping the plastic tray directly on her stomach. Marissa flinched and groaned, reluctantly sitting up in bed.
Later that day, we'd make up for the rude awakening with flowers and a card. There's a bonus shot of some quick bruschetta we made while waiting for dinner to finish in the oven.
How about one more close-up on the bruschetta...
The rest of it sits in the fridge as I type this. We could have scarfed the whole thing last night standing in front of the fridge, but we didn't. We did the mature thing, and saved it all for Monday lunch.
Rodney was kind enough to make the card on behalf of his brother Miles, but the truth is Miles had no idea what was going on. Miles is two now, remember? "Two" as in terrible two. When he doesn't get what he wants precisely when he wants it, he screams. Once he starts screaming, your only hope for peace is that he gets distracted by something on TV.
Miles has also gotten picky with sippie cups. We bought some new ones that were identical to our existing batch, except they had a straw. This small design difference in the cup frustrated Miles, and he began to chuck these to the floor where Minnie could chew them to a wet plastic pulp. Welcome to sippie cup hell - Miles throws them, Minnie chews them, and we buy more.
Let's take a tour through the pet corner, shall we? Ducky still joins Marissa each night to look over her planner. Her belly and tail are the perfect size, and as Ducky's personal bug and roach chef, I take great pride in that.
Remember Spiker? Of course you don't. He's been underground for 210 days. I didn't even know what he looks like. But after 211 days, he decide to emerge from out the back of his dried-out, nappy cave.
Spiker ate a mealworm and a small cockroach this weekend. Glassy also emerged from a long nap - not as long as Spiker's isolation, but it was still nice to see him.
How about a last laugh before I send you off to your work week? Friday's napkin doodle never made it past Marissa's censorship, and I wasn't the least bit surprised. I knew I wouldn't actually get to put it in Rodney's lunch. I just wanted to make myself laugh.
That's what I got today. Thanks for stopping by, and have a great Monday.