Friday, April 6, 2012

Pest-Laden Plans

This is the last holiday hurrah of the school year. A glorious four-day weekend of a spring break! Now that it is nearly 25% over and I've accomplished absolutely nothing except two meager loads of laundry, a trip to town for Easter dinner supplies, mailed my Missouri tax payment, and picked up some gas station chicken...I feel depressed.

I had plans to hole up in my basement office and write up a storm. The #1 son, however, had a different agenda. Which involved sleeping until 10:00, requesting a burger on my trip to town, and popping in and out of my dark lair to update me on his latest photography project. I'm going to miss him tremendously when he goes off to college. But right now...not so much.

This project involves breaking light bulbs. Yes. He's true modern artist. I would provide more detail, but he will provide photos if I post it on my "good" blog. The one with 39 followers instead of 8. That boy's no fool. He desires maximum exposure.

I, on the other hand, desire maximum solitude. The Pony was farmed out to Grandma's house overnight, and will be returning shortly. Of course, he's pretty much self-sufficient. A tube of Pringles Multi-Grain Sour Cream and Onion, a can of Sprite, and an occasional slice of pizza, and he's at my beck and call to reconnect my internet, fetch a cup of ice, bring a box of tissues, set the DVR, and screen my phone calls.

But the night is young. I might still be able to squeeze in some creative writing. Perhaps Farmer H will seek some treasures at the auction. #1 will be busy fixing his photos into a form that won't take four hours to show up on my inbox. There's nothing good on TV tonight.

I'm getting my second creative wind.

2 comments:

Sioux Roslawski said...

Perhaps if you put a basket of dirty laundry outside the door of your lair, with a sign that says, "Please do these loads of clothes," they all will stay away from you.

Menial household tasks. They're like sunlight to vampires...

Hillbilly Mom said...

Sioux,
That might work for a normal child. But #1 is a scofflaw. And, as such, a scofflaundry. He would step over that collection of soiled apparel in an instant, chuckling like a madman.

Today, he has popped in 3 times in 30 minutes. When I complain, he says, "Get over it. I'm only here for about 30 seconds. The life-or-death reason for the interruptions? He wanted validation on some colored craft paint that he's using to make himself a camera strap. Then validation on HOW MANY of the colors to use. Then validation on the pattern.