I’m looking at it like an extension of my vacation
It was our first day back to work from our vacation and My Honey and I came home exhausted, demoralized, beat down. Neither of us was inclined to make dinner, so we put our shoes back on and loaded back in the car to seek out food.
We decided on Mexican food. While we were sitting there eating dinner two police men came in. They looked about twelve years old, like little boys loaded up with cop toys on their belts. They sat several tables away, far enough that they probably couldn’t hear all the bickering at our table.
There’s always bickering at the table. Most of it centers around Sassy’s refusal to eat any actual food. She has made pushing food around on her plate an art form. Talking non-stop, I’m convinced she never swallows anything.
Understandably, her father and I get really tired of buying her food she doesn’t eat.
Perhaps it was because we were so tired, but My Honey and I were getting a little silly, a little punchy. I spent most of the meal giggling at my husband giving my kids a hard time.
When we left the restaurant, we had to pass by the cops.
I paused at their table. “If you can guarantee me solitary confinement, I’ll turn myself in right now.”
Cop #1 started to giggle. What more would you expect from a twelve year-old? Cop #2 looked at me with wide eyes.
“Too bad it doesn’t work like that,” Cop #1 told me, the giggle still evident in his voice.
I was persistent. “I’m serious. What’s on your hot sheet that you want cleared up tonight. I’ll cop to it. Really.”
Now Cop #2 was giggling. I think he might have been drinking chocolate milk.
I shrugged and walked away. Clearly I wasn’t getting any help from them. They probably still bicker with their siblings at family dinners.
My Honey got the last word, though. When he passed by their table, he confided. “I told her it wasn’t that easy.”
Yeah, but what if they’d taken me up on it? How awesome would that have been?