A Day On, Not a Day Off
I'd scheduled a day of leave for Valentine's Day to do very unvalentine's day things, particularly, go to the library all day and study. Unfortunately, Ainsley woke up feeling like refried african beans, so I stayed home in the morning to help her out with breakfast and cleaning up and such.
Bouncing off the walls, Ryan was in need of an outing, so I took him out to get the grey car washed, then to Arby's for lunch, enjoying an entire Arby's Jr., apples and grapes, and a carton of milk (even dipping some of his sandwich in my aujus). Jealous though Ainsley was to hear it, Ryan and I had a great time hanging out together.
As per usual (of late), I was able to get him down for his nap fairly easily, then took advantage of the reduction in required active child maintenance (and the pending arrival of the in-laws) to finally scoot libraryward and read a hundred or so pages of the unimaginatively titled "Senior Leader Course" before heading home as directed "before 5:30."
Despite the fact that we usually don't go out on Valentine's Day (to avoid the rush and to focus external dining on My Very Special Day following), Ainsley had arranged for her parents to babysit so we could act like adults and cut our own meat and not worry about drinks being spilled or waking up the nipper. Ainsley surprised me by taking us to the Outback, one of my varra favorites, and to avoid the 2.5-hour wait (seems it's a lot of people's favorite),we sat at the bar and chatted next to the smokers and regular bar-type folk. Ainsley was still feeling crapulent, so she barely touched her meal, and we were home so quickly that our kids were still up. It was still wonderful to get out on our own for a quick spell, though.
Ryan was a bear to get down, having napped from before 1 until 4:30, an inconsolable crying mess anytime I dared try to leave the room and spell Ainsley from her sapsucker. Finally able to break free after about an hour of trying, and quickly let Ainsley open her Bag o' Presents -- she got me cool lights for the hot tub, I got her a frying pan. How cool am I?
You're right, the scale doesn't go down that far.
Bouncing off the walls, Ryan was in need of an outing, so I took him out to get the grey car washed, then to Arby's for lunch, enjoying an entire Arby's Jr., apples and grapes, and a carton of milk (even dipping some of his sandwich in my aujus). Jealous though Ainsley was to hear it, Ryan and I had a great time hanging out together.
As per usual (of late), I was able to get him down for his nap fairly easily, then took advantage of the reduction in required active child maintenance (and the pending arrival of the in-laws) to finally scoot libraryward and read a hundred or so pages of the unimaginatively titled "Senior Leader Course" before heading home as directed "before 5:30."
Despite the fact that we usually don't go out on Valentine's Day (to avoid the rush and to focus external dining on My Very Special Day following), Ainsley had arranged for her parents to babysit so we could act like adults and cut our own meat and not worry about drinks being spilled or waking up the nipper. Ainsley surprised me by taking us to the Outback, one of my varra favorites, and to avoid the 2.5-hour wait (seems it's a lot of people's favorite),we sat at the bar and chatted next to the smokers and regular bar-type folk. Ainsley was still feeling crapulent, so she barely touched her meal, and we were home so quickly that our kids were still up. It was still wonderful to get out on our own for a quick spell, though.
Ryan was a bear to get down, having napped from before 1 until 4:30, an inconsolable crying mess anytime I dared try to leave the room and spell Ainsley from her sapsucker. Finally able to break free after about an hour of trying, and quickly let Ainsley open her Bag o' Presents -- she got me cool lights for the hot tub, I got her a frying pan. How cool am I?
You're right, the scale doesn't go down that far.
posted by Dan at 8:03 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home