17 September 08
The boys and I played hide ‘n seek tonight. What a blast. Racing around, both parties screaming whenever the next person was found. Always extra fun in a new house. Lots of new hiding places. I had the best one. Tucked away on the side of my bed. It took both boys working together ages to find me. Even then they kept making me say, “Woo hoo! Woo hoo!”
It reminded me of a journal entry I wrote on the 5th of September. I thought you all might enjoy:
I asked the guys this morning, all three of them, “What should we have for dinner?” Bridger piped up right away, super enthusiastically, “I know!! Da duh da duh…SOUP!” He was so excited. He’d thought of the perfect thing. So like the kind, nurturing mother that I am I said, “Meah. Soup? Really?”
I wanted to go out. To some fabulous place we’d discover. Nearby. With wickedly good gourmet food. Made from fresh organic ingredients produced locally. With gorgeous gluten free options to boot. A fusion of some sort. Some place we’d love to take other people. ‘Oh we have this great restaurant—it’s just down the street. We can walk! You haaaaaave to come stay some weekend so we can go!’ Then when we took folks they’d ooo and ah and be jealous. Wishing they could be local regulars at this restaurant. Wishing they’d been clever enough to discover it first.
Or I’d settle for a good burrito and a margarita. Do they even have those here?!?
Bleh. I’m feeling snotty and pissy about our location. I don’t know exactly what I had expected. Well no, that’s a lie. I do know. I had wanted it to be all cute and ‘boutique-y.’ With a little flower/gifty shop and a tea room or coffee house with ridiculously good pastries and pretty cups.
Some little village with a weekly Farmer’s Market where I would put all my purchases—including homemade cheese and freshly cut flowers—into a big wicker basket and sashay home in my bohemian skirt holding my smiling shiny sons by each hand.
Instead it’s me, dragging Caid—who is whining about his sore legs—from the bus stop freezing cold in the rain with bags from the UK equivalent of King Soopers.
Caid’s napping now. Bridger is at school. I’m sitting at the kitchen table looking out at the wet, trying to warm up with a cup of tea and thinking, “You know what sounds perfect for dinner tonight? Da duh da duh…SOUP!”
The soup was good that night. Still haven’t found a fun restaurant. I’m listening for it to start calling, “Woo hoo! Woo hoo!”