It's spring break over here and I have been trying not to be on the computer much at all. And the boys have a free trial of education city so I just don't get to HAVE the computer that much! But they are all watching a short movie so I can do a short blog before I try to find my house...cuz, remember, it is spring break.
Yesterday we drove up aways away to visit one of my very dear friends. She has three boys and they all play well and any time we have to visit I just cherish it. We soak it up...who knows when we will get together again? I had called ahead to tell her I was running late (as normal) and would appreciate food, caffeine and nail polish. When I arrived, she had a gourmet looking lunch, caffeine and a bottle of nail polish and polish remover sitting out for me. I felt spoiled! After lunch I sat at the counter and painted my nails as we chatted and the boys played outside. The momentary silence was nice, we knew it wouldn't last very long, and she had a cool color of pink I didn't have so instead of just painting my toenails, I decided to do my finger nails. I never paint my finger nails, it's just going to chip so fast but this weekend is Easter and I thought, "why not?"
No exaggeration...as SOON as I finished my nails, son#2 ran into the house and to tell us that we had a problem. Son#3 had fallen into the mud puddle. And son#2 was grinning, so we knew it was bad.
My friend has a HUGE mud puddle in the back of her yard. Before letting them out of the house, we had done the whole mom routine..."There is a mud puddle out there. You do not go near it, you do not touch it, you do not play with it, you stay away from the mud puddle." To which all the boys nod their heads and say "Yes, Moma". And then, just to drive the point home more, I say "what are you supposed to do?" "Not play in the puddle," they respond and then they had flown out the door, yelling with joy.
And I had painted my nails.
I went out on the porch carefully. I did not touch the door with my fingers, I used my palms. I stood there in my bare feet (I couldn't put shoes on, I had just painted my toes too!) and listened as the wail became louder. Finally, son#3 rounds the corner of the garage and, well, words fail me.
He was covered from the middle of his head, all down his face, his entire shirt, his entire pants and his boots were COVERED in muddy water. It was literally dripping down his face.
I just had to laugh.
"Did you go into the mud puddle?" I asked.
"No" he shakes his head emphatically, " I jumped OVER the puddle, but I fell in it."
I told him to take his clothes off and we would give him a bath. But he was soaked, he could not peel those clothes off of him for anything and he is standing there in the middle of the front yard wailing. I looked at my wet nails, I looked at my wailing wet son, I looked at my wet nails, and I turned to son#2 and said "help your brother."
I did. I chose nail polish over love.
How sad am I ?
The thing is, he couldn't get those clothes off. They were suctioned to his body. My friend jumped off the porch and helped get his clothes off. She took his boots off and literally POURED the water out of them.
I wish I had taken a picture, I am pretty sure I could have done that without smugging my nails, but I didn't have the camera with me. It would be a classic, though. Almost worth the drive back to see him try it again!
I did help him into the tub, scrubbed him down, dried him off, borrowed clothes for him and got him dressed and he seemed no worse for the wear from it all. They all did not go out side to play for the rest of the visit.
And that is ONE story from this week. Stay tuned...we got baby chicks on the way home.
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