I just found this post in my drafts folder. Not sure why I didn't already publish it, but here it is. I got nothing else and I'm tired of that weight watchers post being up. Because, after all, No One Cares What You Had For Lunch!
I know I promised to shuddup about the van already, and this really isn't about the van, but be forewarned I do mention the van a teensy bit. And by teensy I mean quite a lot.
When we bought the van we realized that the power sliding door did not work right. And by work right I mean you had to (gasp) manually open and close it. Y'all. Have you ever heard of such a thing? Having to push and pull on a door? I mean really? That was the whole reason I bought the van in the first place! So, needless to say, when we were making the deal we made sure it included the dealer fixing the sliding door.
I took the van in to be fixed on Monday night and picked it up at 10am today. It was like magic I tell you. I pushed a button, the door opened. I pushed a button, the door closed. Lather, rinse, repeat until the dealer asked us to please leave because really? You can push those buttons at home.
And push those buttons at home I did. And the door worked beautifully. When I picked Elijah up from school I just hit the button on my key chain and he entered the van. Magic, I tell you.
Then we went to visit my friend Cortney who just had a little baby. (Who, by the way, is an absolute doll.) Cortney's son was there for Elijah to play with. I also brought Emma and Landon. Five kids. In one house. Under the age of six. Holy hell were they rowdy.
Only problem was when we were getting out of the van at Cortney's house. I pushed the button, the door opened. I pushed it again. It didn't close. I stood there and pushed that button like a mad woman. I got a cramp in my finger. I finally had to go ask a neighbor to close the door for me, because I am a lady and ladies shouldn't have to do such things as open and close doors.
I called the car dealer and we are scheduling another appointment for Fix Damn Door Attempt 2.
On the way home from Cortney's house I called my mom to whine about my door. She was obviously sympathetic. She does, after all, know how I despise manual labor.
I got the kids out of the car and was still talking on the phone and I looked over at Emma. She was standing ankle deep in a mud puddle wearing her cute brown mary jane shoes. Damn it. I yelled at her to get out of the mud puddle and turned around to close the van door. I turned back around to walk to the house and there is Elijah. Standing in the same god damn puddle I just yelled at Emma to get out of.
And, the icing on the cake? I have to go clean my bathroom. Today sucks.
