Nearly two weeks ago, after I dropped Frappy off at college, I was pretty bummed out driving home. The timing worked out so that I was able to pick Double Shot up after practice. He was expecting his father to pick him up so when he saw me his whole face lit up and the first thing he said when he got in the car was how glad he was I was picking him up and how much he missed me. My heart did a little pitty pat happy dance. He then went on to tell me how Mr. Macchiato made him make his own lunch and even though he put the same stuff in it that I do... It wasn't any good. The pitty pat happy dance faltered for a moment but... hey, I'd had a bad day. He was glad to see me and it was okay if it was partly because he had to make his own lunch.
Double Shot then told me that he likes me picking him up from practice and not Mr. Macchiato or Frappy. Oh, that little pitty pat happy dance picked up the pace! How Sweet! Yeah. Apparently, I don't complain about him stinking. I was a bit shocked by that because I sure think it. Well, Mr. Macchiato rolls Double Shot's window down and then locks it from his side and even if Double Shot is cold... will not roll it up. And according to Double Shot, Mr. Macchiato tells him 40 billion times that he stinks on the half hour ride home. Frappy? Well, it seems she's not so much like me as I thought. In this instance she's all Daddy. Only worse because, according to Double Shot, she is a shrieking shrew of a sister. He then told me I was AWESOME! Yup. He sure did.
Poor Double Shot was also starving to death. He wanted me to please stop at Target and pick up a Buffalo chicken wrap... and sushi. Of course, I did. No way was I cooking when I got home and just on the off chance that maybe Mr. Macchiato was preparing dinner for us... I called and asked. I got a big bowl of nope followed by an awkward sort of silence in which I am sure he was wondering if I'd landed on some other planet by thinking he was at home flitting around in my apron and whipping up a surprise feast. Then Double Shot informed me that the night before he'd had to fix himself oatmeal for dinner. He was horrified. He said he might have died if I hadn't come home.
Oh that boy sure did miss me! It lasted a whole day! Wow. But, I'll take it. And I laugh every time I think about all of the horrors he had to endure while I was away. I also happened upon a brand new parenting tool. It's working too. Double Shot, the lean mean eating machine... has the worst table manners. It drives us crazy. He's like cookie monster when he eats and when he leaves the table there's a ring of crumbs around where he sat. He's an animal. So, when he belched at the table the next night, it occurred to me mid Medusa morph, that I actually had some power over him. I then informed him that if he didn't display the proper manners at the dinner table then I would not make his lunch the following day. He laughed at me. The next morning he had to make his own lunch and he wasn't laughing any more. He didn't even make himself a sandwich. He just threw in whatever packaged stuff he could find. That night at dinner... his manners had miraculously improved.
We are settling in and getting used to just having Double Shot around. There are some pretty cool perks that we discovered before Frappy even left for college but was off on her little world tour... like when Double Shot spends the night at a friend's house... We are Alone. in. the. House. There is no fighting amongst siblings. Just those two things are a.m.a.z.i.n.g. Of course, there's also a few down sides... like the fact that Double Shot doesn' t have his sisters around to torture so he's turned his sights toward us. Well, mainly me. I am now stalked in my own home. It is the worst at night. When it is dark. He lies in wait for me. And he gets me nearly every time. The most annoying part is his laughing and almost incomprehensible re-enactments. It appears I am his new toy. He scared me so bad the other night that I'm still recovering.
Some of the adjustments are a bit odd... We don't need as much toilet paper for one.