The Reigning Queen of Pink has had, by any measure, a day. So, for that matter, have I – on my part, partly because I am the father of the RQoP.
The day for me started with dropping her off at school (just after dropping off Number One Son), and then heading to my main office. I spent a few quality hours there before driving to my Army office, spending a few quality hours there before driving to a meeting in Chantilly, where I spent a quality hour or so before getting on a conference call that lasted the entire drive home. (Huzzah for hands-free cell phones.) I was home for a quality 5 minutes, barely long enough to take off my jacket, before we all piled into the car and took the RQoP to her follow-up Dr. appointment for her endoscopy a few weeks ago – the upshot of which is that we’re going to try a limited test of introducing eggs back into her diet. (Baked or cooked into things, such as cakes or muffins, not like mainlining scrambled eggs or a nice Benedict.)
So there we were, in the waiting room for the Dr, at 5:15, with 15 minutes before our appointment. We waited. For 45 minutes. Because this is what you do in a waiting room. I thought about explaining to them what my bill rate was, but since I was obviously ignoring their “no cell phones” sign and typing furiously on my corporate blackberry, I figured that might be disingenuous.
Once in and out of the Dr office, we skipped down the road a block or two and put our names on the waiting list at a local eatery. It was packed, since unbeknownst to us, buildings for miles around had just lost power and everyone decided to eat there at the same time. To save time, we accepted their kind offer to eat on the outdoor terrace.
Do you remember the bit about having enough time to take off my jacket? Right. It’s nice out, if you’re dressed or drinking. For those of us who weren’t drinking, namely SOBUMD and the kids, it was a little brisk – and I didn’t have my jacket to gallantly offer to any of them. However, I remembered that there was a blanket in the van, and hastily went to get that – at least someone could be warm, right?
Do not put off until tomorrow what can reasonably be postponed until next week, maybe the week after, because hard work may pay off in the future, but laziness always pays off right now. What’s in the van? The bag full of clothes, toys, and oh hey JACKETS that we still haven’t dropped off at the local charity. I walked back to the table with a blanket (hiding two coats, a sweater and a robe), and a “who’s the man” grin. By the time I got back to the table, my next beer was waiting. Brilliant!
We ate, in something much closer to comfort, they in their coats and blankets and I with my beer and my hat – hey, we were outdoors, and I stayed nice and warm. We came home and I put the three lunatic children to bed. The RQoP was significantly tired, and was nearly asleep by the time I arrived in her room with her toothbrush. I propped her up, got her teeth brushed, and then gave her the inhaler – which was partly the point of the Dr visit – and she tried to whisper in my ear. “What?” I asked. Whisper whisper. “What?”
“I’m trying to whisper in your ear!” she whispered. Why she should feel the need to whisper anything while we were alone in her room with the rest of the house awake, I couldn’t guess – but then, you don’t argue with those who rule by divine right, and so I dutifully leaned down so the cute, blond, 8-yr-old Reigning Queen of Pink could whisper in my ear: “Sweet titty-fuckin’ Jesus, I’m tired!”
Facepalm. Right, probably best to whisper that one. “Kid, I’m turning your light off now, and I don’t ever want you to say that again.” “OK. Goodnight Daddy!”
She’d had quite a day, after all. Needless to say, I walked out of the room and doubled over laughing. There’s a reason SOBUMD goes by Inappropriate Girl sometimes…
And so, after checking with my conscience for a few seconds and realizing I’ve misplaced the damn thing again, I decided that oh yes I could share that with you, dear friend, fond relation, and gentle reader. I hope your virgin eyes recover.