I used forced entry last week.
I didn’t mean to, but...
I found out that there wasn't going to be anyone to take care of my children during this thing called "Spring Break."
[The nerve of these school management types!]
At first I thought I should get out my old day planner and organize a series of activities that would fill each of their days with a combination of outings, instructional opportunities and free play.
[Ha Ha Ha Ha.]
That is not at all what I really thought.
I really thought we should go to Florida.
And I convinced other families that they should go too.
Then the nurse from The Mayor’s surgeon’s office said that there was no way The Mayor could (or should) go within 5,000 miles of the beach until he was 70 billion years post surgery.
I thought this was excessive, but since I’m
like such a totally kick ass parent compliant with the medical community, I told the other families they would have to do without the ABSOLUTE JOY of our familial company.
They, like rationale headed people, made reservations for a small house that would comfortably accommodate two families, not three, and that was fine.
There was order in my universe.
However, right after The Mayor's surgery, the surgeon said,
“So. When are you leaving for the beach?”[Oh, WHAT?!]
After I “used my words” with him, The Surgeon told me that the nurse must have made a mistake, that it was fine for The Mayor to go TO the ocean, he just couldn't go IN it.
[Long string of expletives!!!!!]
I spent the following many days weaseling my way into the small house that my friends (perhaps former friends?) rented.
I hope they still like me...