ptcruiser1
I call my car 'Bugsy'.

9 p.m. Thursday: Trey, who’s out driving my car, calls to report the “check engine” light is back on. Great. This, after my car spent seven hours today with the mechanic, who swore it would pass inspection in the morning.

10 p.m.: Time to dump the water out of Sky’s Breg Polar Care 300 cryotherapy machine (read: fancy ice pack), which she has to keep on her knee for 48 hours, post-surgery. We’re only at hour #30, or thereabouts. I unplug the unit, unplug the wrap around her knee, squeeze out the water left in the wrap, dump the water from the unit, refill the unit to the brim with ice, then add water. Plug, wrap, plug. It does seem to help with pain and swelling.

10:30 p.m.: Straighten up the house a bit, do the dishes, toss some laundry in the dryer. Give Sky her pain meds, make sure her leg is elevated. Decide to pass on making a wine-laced smoothie. Too sleepy.

11 p.m.: In bed, finally. Pretty busy day holding down the fort all by myself. Bobby’s in D.C., won’t be back until late Friday night, so I have my hands full with a hurting child on top of my usual, nutty routine.

2 a.m.: Alarm goes off. Time to deal with the ice machine. Plug, wrap, plug.

6 a.m.: See above.

8 a.m.: Call the mechanic.

9:30 a.m. Trey takes my car to meet the mechanic, returns 90 minutes later with a 60-day inspection extension, which I’ll have the pleasure of presenting in court first thing Tuesday morning (don’t ask).

10 a.m.: See 6 a.m.

11 a.m.: Going cross-eyed because I’m so sleepy, but I have to go to the high school. Seems someone failed to tell me about a textbook missing since sophomore year.  Graduation is tomorrow, and Sky can’t march (with crutches) until all fines are paid. Oh and by the way, lockers were cleaned out last week. Remember that expensive winter coat? Bank, school, school custodian, school bookkeeper. Cell phone rings. Pitiful request to please pick up something for lunch. I return 90 minutes later with a receipt for $50 from the bookkeeper, her coat and McDonald’s for all.

1 p.m.: Finally, peace. Time to get some work done …

2 p.m.: See 6 a.m. Just used the last of the ice. Have to buy it by the bag because the icemaker hasn’t worked properly since Bobby “cleaned” it Wednesday night. Trey volunteers to go get some. I send him to Wal-Mart with a list that includes apple juice concentrate and a can of sliced peaches – the latter two for the smoothie maker, because now I don’t just want, but feel I richly deserve a wine smoothie tonight.

3 p.m.: Trey calls, and the conversation starts with: “So, I was backing out of the parking space, when …” Having written reams of content for law firm websites, I tell him what to say, and what not to say.

4 p.m.: Trey makes it home, bags of ice half-melted in today’s 90-degree heat. I refuse to go see the damage to my car because I’m already this … close … to losing my cool.  Good news: he didn’t forget the smoothie ingredients.  There’s a half a bottle of Pink Magnolia in the ’fridge. In a couple of hours I’ll be pouring the whole thing into the blender. . . .

5 p.m.: Making light, summer salads for myself and Sky. Trey’s gone to work (in my car!), Bobby will be home around midnight, so it’s just the two of us for dinner. She’s feeling better, might be able to handle graduation practice in the morning.

So anyway, that’s why I couldn’t get a blog post written today. Things should be back to (what passes for) normal next week.

Have a great holiday weekend.

No self-respecting mother would run out of intimidations on the eve of a major holiday. ~  Erma Bombeck