Remember the Seinfeld episode where George got really smart from not having sex, and Elaine got really dumb from having it? And George's life was grand, while Elaine's was falling apart?
It's like that around here now. Not the sex part. Sweet Gummi Mary NO! M-O-O-N. That spells no sex is gonna happen in Hillmomba any time soon, nohow, no way! For my boys, of course. That's what this episode concerns.
The absentminded professor, the #1 son, has been driving himself to school all year. That means The Pony and I get ready and leave about a half hour before #1. We have our routine down pat. The Pony never puts a foot wrong. We complement each other. The right hand and the left hand know what each other is doing.
So it was with much surprise and consternation that I spied The Pony's lunch still on the counter as I headed for the door. "Um. You lunch is probably better-suited to a trip to town in your backpack, then an afternoon inside your belly than it is sitting on the cutting block alone all day."
"Oh! I forgot. I wondered why my backpack was flapping open."
We got halfway to school when I remembered that it was trash day. And I had not reminded #1 to take the dumpster to the end of the driveway. I told The Pony to call him. No answer. We called back five minutes later. No answer. The Pony sent him a text. Finally, #1 returned the call. "I took the dumpster up before I left. I'm on the road now. You're lucky I'm so responsible."
I'm waiting for the cats to bark and the dogs to mew. The pigs flying has been ruined by that little wee wee wee pig on a zip line, Maxwell.