Not that things are ever 100% normal anywhere we go, but the brilliant shine of vacation life has definitely faded, leaving the blurry, dull reflection of reality, York style.
Packed the kiddos up to leave for the lake yesterday (after spending the entire morning and majority of the afternoon in my pj's, working on the chunkyrhino shop), and proceeded to spend the next 30 minutes searching frantically for my keys while Ry and Jax sweated buckets in the black car on the hottest day of the year thus far -- are we even keeping track of my MOTY points anymore?? Shawn finally suggested we stop looking long enough to resucitate the children, during which time he also suggested we call down to Corpus to see if, perhaps, the keys had simply refused to come back with us and were lounging around in the sun. Which, of course, is where they were, although their lounging location was more under the recliner than the sun, but they were lounging none-the-less.
So. No keys, no spares (since those are the 2nd set of spares we've had to make for Frannie Forgetful), and therefore, no way for me and the kids to go anywhere. Not to mention, I was not exactly batting a thousand, seeing as how I'd earlier sent Shawn off in a mad-dash to Jaxson's doctor's appointment, only to find out I had sent him to the wrong doctor. He was not pleased. Luckily, I had the forethought to only use doctors practicing in the same medical building, so all he had to do was take a hike down the hall, and it was as if the little mix-up never occured. (Or something light and breezy like that.)
Anyway, I was in crash mode, ready to throw in the towel, tears streaming down my cheeks, depressed all the way to my knees, when Shawn pulled me in for a hug, and Ninny called saying she would happily shuttle the kids and I to the lake.
We spent a great evening sipping drinks, catching up with old friends and family, taking a moonlit boatride, and chasing the kids away from the water's edge. We followed our mini-vacay evening with a mini-vacay nooner of snacks, conversation, and mansion-touring (our friends just moved into their newly built McMansion, complete with elevator), which is when the joy and elation pretty much ran out.
Once home, I began trying to set up for the small girls-only gathering I was hosting for my friend's belated birthday, complete with pizza bar, decorations, and cookie dough, when sure enough, Jax turned on the NEEDY, Ry morphed into Hyper-Princess, Screaming Diva, and the oven broke down.
Blessed with long legs, I cleared those hurdles, only to discover that the mailbox had been declared "too full" while we were away (all those FOUR days), and our mail has now been taken hostage at the post office, awaiting our rescue. Which would be easy enough -- if we had a car to drive.
The kicker? The keys are in the mail.
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