Today brings the Headless Horseman, an assortment of Hello Kitty and Spongebob band-aids and new pants for Ruth. I went shopping because she took her turn last week to outgrow everything she owned, while Henry did the same the week before. I'm also trying to finalize the print order for our family photos. Nothing eight hundred dollars won't take care of. That's what it's going to cost to get enough pictures for everyone and for everyone they want to give them to. It's a little bit insane. The pictures turned out amazing though. I like them. I didn't expect to.
My hands are okay, superficial cuts. Gravely wounded ego, however. Ben won't discuss anything. Lochlan is done for the moment, or perhaps he's medicating himself into silence as a survival technique. I'm being completely obnoxious to both of them in an effort to force them to make peace. So in other words, I have tilted at windmills and jumped a shark or two and eventually they'll either make up on dry land or wait until the next practice when they're wearing cups and helmets. Then it's pretty much a free-for-all. For some reason the moment Ben pulls his goalie mask down over his face he gives himself permission to be ruthless. I'd almost rather he didn't play. Or maybe they should play on different teams. Maybe they should learn to get along because this is the way things are and it was their idea so all of the struggling seems so futile and a waste of love and energy for that matter.
And tension. Who needs a house full of tension?
Oh right, reap what we sow. I forgot.
Don't be delusional. I don't forget the important things, just dumb things like numbers, grocery items I need and random pop culture facts if they aren't things I'm interested in. Also, my underwear size. No idea. Ever. I always get ones that are too big. I can't explain it. I know my measurements, they never jive with the guidelines.
Certain things bother me, I guess. Mondays. People who don't like music. Tailgaters. Gatorade that is sealed with plastic and then there's still a foil barrier inside the cap that requires PJ to open it for me. Lochlan when he isn't perfect. When he drinks. Ben's absolute refusal to wade into the current argument between Lochlan and I. Is he waiting for the game tonight or has he completely missed the boat?
I'm certainly not going to bring it up to find out.
If he is choosing to actively ignore our argument, well, then that's a phenomenal turn of events in this house.
Tonight I think I'll choose to believe that, and Monday can end on a good note. Especially if someone opens this Gatorade for me. I want to bring it to the game.