I have not been able to wear contacts for three weeks. Yesterday, I'd had enough, and decided my cute but narrow and scratched glasses needed a vacation. I made an appointment with an ophthalmologist. Since I was warned that I'd have my eyes dilated, I opted for a midmorning appointment so I could sleep in.
I'll wait a few, moms, for you to stop laughing.
After a full thirty minutes of extra sleep, my husband turned on the light in the master bathroom. I asked him if he'd take G to school. He said he would "if it was on the way." People, the only way G's school would be MORE on the way for Josh's daily route to work is if he let G coast out the window and break his fall with a roll on the elementary school lawn as Josh slowed around the corner.
It turns out that Josh had though't I'd said to take B to school. He didn't realize B was home sick for the day. By the time we determined the miscommunication, I realized I'd have to take G anyway as the time for the bus was too late and car rider dropoff were both after Josh's planned time to go to work. Sigh.
I rested until it was time to take G out to wait for the bus. We live in the country, so an adult has to wait with an elementary school child as he waits for the bus to stop at his driveway. Students live far enough apart in our area that a common bus stop is not close enough for walking. I popped the trunk to retrieve a bag before we trekked down the driveway.
I screamed and jumped back.
A tiny mouse but was scurrying under trunk junk on the right side. G sprang into action, and attempted began moving coats, bookbags, and a window shade. He found a screwdriver during the search and wielded it like a dagger, ready to stab the rodent upon discovery.
"Stop!" I screamed. "If you keep moving stuff, I'll have to see it again!"
Yeah, that's rational. Leave the mouse there.
I phoned Josh to tell him I'd be driving his truck today, and every day, until the stowaway was dead. Luckily, my next door neighbors were waiting with G's classmate and after telling them the story of my morning, I was lent a battery-operated mouse-zapping trap I could set without snapping my finger off or moving any of the trunk junk that was likely hiding the miscreant laying in wait to end me.
I went inside and told my older son, B the story. He responded that the dogs had run off. We hopped in Josh's pristine truck, his treasured first-ever new-to-him vehicle purchased by choice and not necessity and with a budget of more than $1500. I have a reputation of not being the model driver, so I knew I'd have to be extra careful in my travels.
We crept down our country road until we spotted the pair at their puppy friend's house. Upon closer observation, they were covered in mud. There was no way they could ride inside the truck as they normally do in vehicles. I dropped the tailgate, lifted a 50 lb Pete up to shoulder height and tossed him in the tall truck bed. Now my pajama shirt was damp with wet dog. Ew. I reached for, caught Darla, and repeated the process with nervous-Nelly as Pete hopped out to freedom. I yelled at Darla to stay, and she slunk towards the cab shaking seizure-style. I hauled Pete up again and slammed the tailgate. Now I had dog funk and sweat all over my shirt.
After leaving the opthamologist at noon, I grabbed some lunch, stopped for dog food, dropped off recycling at the dump, and then rinsed the mud I'd spun from the front yard all over Treasured Truck before gassing up and heading home, JUST about in time to get G off the bus.
WHY did I make the later appointment? I should have taken the early one, then taken a nap!
In related news, the trap is still unoccupied, so Treasured Truck and I are traveling together tomorrow.
