Saturday Shenanigans

The scene.

Let's rewind to Friday afternoon. On this day, I took a trip down the stairs in the bathroom. Only I could manage to do this. There I was, all set to go take a shower. The boys were in their jumper and good to go for 15 minutes, just enough time for me to run to the shower. Run I did, and somehow was moving so quickly, that I skipped the last 2 steps on my way down to the bathroom. It hurt. First of all, my bathroom is so small that I can't just land in the floor, I also have to hit something when I land. In this case, I landed on the side of my foot, which buckled due to my enormous girth. Then, my arms flailed into the sink and my head knocked against the toilet. I laid there in the floor, all sprawled out, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. Crap. Please Lord don't let me have a broken bone. Check. I could move everything. I was fine, save for a minor foot injury. So, I hobbled back to the living room and laid on the couch. After about half an hour, I was good to go...although, moving a little slower than usual (and that is really slow).

Saturday was bound to be better than Friday afternoon! The morning started out pretty well. I was running around like a chicken with its head cut off trying to get everything packed for the boys stay at Tracy's. Two little dudes require so much stuff! The boys were going wild in their jumpers as I packed. Joe Bear started fussing, so I go pick him up. He was rubbing his little eyes and it was around naptime, so I thought he was sleepy. Took him to Doug, who was still snoozing in bed. A few minutes later Doug is hollering. There was....an explosion. I told you before I had babies that I wouldn't write about their poop, and so I will not. Let's just say that after this incident (and a similar incident that followed with his brother), this day was referred to as Brown Saturday.

I want to know, why do parents find baby poop stories so amusing? People like to tell them all the time. Folks at work, at school, they're all the time telling you about their children's bowel movements. Why? Is it that they are fascinated by something so cute producing something so vile? Something so tiny letting it rip in ridiculously huge amounts? Or, is it just that, as parents, we are amused at our partner's reaction to this mess. Honestly, this is highly entertaining. I hate poop and hearing about other people's kid's poop, but it is hysterical to see Doug carrying a child with a poopy diaper to the changing table and proceeding to do clean-up. That's why changing number 2 diapers is his job.

Those old ladies were cool, but not
as cool as Beetle!

We dropped the boys off and headed to Lexington for some basketball action. We had a good time at the ballgame, but unfortunately, we lost. The crowd started heading out at the 2 minute mark. We were down by 8 or so. I overheard the 2 old ladies behind me talking. "Everybody's acting like the game is over. Why, in 1978 when Kyle Macy played, there was a game where he scored 6 points in 36 seconds." I love little old ladies who love Kentucky basketball. Bless their hearts. Wish the Cats would've won it for them.

Walking back to our car after the game, 2 things happened. An old man nearly bit the dust when he was power-walking through the crowd. He hit a mudhole wide-open and nearly went to the ground. He recovered (after splashing nasty mudhole water all over me) and looked around to see if anyone noticed. We all noticed, buddy. The second thing that happened involved a toolbag. Some little punk in his corolla littered. He was sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic, rolled down his window, looked at me, and threw out his DQ ice cream cup. Idiot. I just stared at him like, "You've got to be kidding." I can't believe people litter. I hope that kid gets toe rot using the dorm showers.