June 21, 2011 by Marj Hatzell
Ever read that Mouse & Cookie book? You know the one. It’s like one big long domino set up. You do one thing, and it affects another, and then another, and then so forth…
This weekend the boys were due for haircuts and so genius me decides HEY! Let’s do it Saturday morning! First thing! No one will be there, it’s not like yesterday was the last day of school around here or anything. Not like folks are getting ready to get out of Dodge for the summer or anything. So let’s go to the Kid’s Haircut Place! No waiting! Genius!
Except the whole dang planet was there and since we request a certain hairdresser (no, you cannot make reservations, believe me, I wish) because Bugaboo let’s her touch him and she’s done an awesome job on a moving target for three years (think Stevie Wonder at the piano minus the piano and sunglasses) we MUST go to her because doing something new and different in the Land of Autism is just not acceptable. Anyways, so we go to the shopping center, sign in, have a half hour wait and proceed to head to the dollar store to get
bribery m&ms for a reward and then to O.N. to check out clothes because Gah knows The Guy I Live With needs MORE tee shirts because two full drawers, three piles each, six-to-eight shirts per pile (that’s like forty to sixty or so tee shirts for those of you not good at math) is NOT enough tee shirts for my husband. OH NO. But I’m all, “Good! Get new shirts! Because I’m secretly plotting to turn all yucky stained tee shirts into rags!” Except then he got yet another Hawaiian inspired pair of bathing trunks and…no, I’m not bitter. Just sayin’.
Right. Shopping center. Killing time during the haircuts. So we walk around to kill time for the haircut and get some new clothes and then Bugaboo needs the bathroom and he wants the candy like YESTERDAY so I have to hold him and we walk back and forth and pass the mattress store TWICE and we were there last week and took Bugaboo and it was right before bedtime and he wouldn’t curl up on any of the mattresses, he picked this lumpy old futon and we perused the mattresses and ended up leaving without a hole in our wallets. Which is normally a good thing. But Saturday, you know, haircut day? Bugaboo wanted to go back in the store. So we walked by it it the second time and I gots to thinkin’. Haircuts were finished, boys were well-behaved (Seriously, y’all, BEST EVER. No crying ! NONE! NONE AT ALL!” and I was all excited and as we walked out, I’m all, “Let’s go see the mattresses again! Just for fun and stuff!” and The Guy I Live With agreed and I may or may not have promised him major unmentionable things to get a mattress and long story short? The new mattress comes today. Like, a King-Sized, certain brand name famous one that I’ve been dying to have.
And you know what? If anyone deserves it, IT IS ME.
But the mattress store? Shopping with Bugaboo in a mattress store is like taking a box of crickets into a small room and opening it and standing back and everyone flinches and jumps back and gasps as they BOING BOING BOING all over the place. Kinda like taking a bunch of superballs in an elevator. That’s what my kid is like. So he’s jumping from bed to bed and bouncing and I’m all hissing at the boys and stuff and the salesman is all, “oh, back again? Meh. All kids do that. No worries. ” Except I was determined my kids would behave in there. So when Bugaboo got near me I grabbed his arm and took him to the bed I wanted. And the clouds parted and a chorus of angels sang and he instantly melted into that there bed and didn’t move for the duration of our visit and did I mention? WE TOTALLY BOUGHT A BED.
A new one. A king-sized bed. A comfy, better-for-my-ridiculously-mangled-back-bed. And I am so happy. And so is Bugaboo.
That is, until he finds out he cannot use it for a trampoline.
So last night we took our old bed apart and ew. EW. And I clean under things regularly! But somehow I missed the cup turned upside down wedged between the headboard and wall and DRIP DRIP DRIP over a period of time that was prolly a month so when we took apart the bed, MASSIVE DUST BUNNIES ON TOP OF FOSSILIZED JUICE, YO. But our bedroom is pretty darn clean now and thank goodness we have a carpet steamer.
Guess what gets delivered today?