It must be the rain

It must be the rain. I slept in. That part was great. The part that wasn't so great...I missed my chance to get some work done in peace and quiet. And, I missed my workout.

Then, I had the gall to ask, then instruct, my kids to fold laundry. I know, they are seriously overworked. I mean, really, really overworked. They each have all of 5 chores. We've been back in town for less than two weeks. We leave for Florida on Friday. The suitcases are still at the top of the stairs. No wonder they are so wiped out. They are seriously overworked.

Oh wait. There is a point to this story...and it has nothing to do with laundry. I'm just making a point that I was irritated that my kids were onry about folding a few baskets of laundry. Did I mention the rain? And that I missed my workout? Not a good combination for my mood.

Of course, it doesn't help that I am somewhat weighed down with feelings of sadness regarding many situations. My friend's mom has cancer. Another friend was just diagnosed. Some friends are getting divorced. Family members are out of work. Greg's granny is here and her health is fading quickly. I know people losing their homes. President Obama is coming to Shaker tomorrow. I'm still trying to sell a house. Our waterslide just bit the dust. An entire gallon of milk spilled on the downstairs carpet the other day. (I had to throw in something a little lighter). Anyway -- summer just doesn't seem to be the care-free, kick-back time like I remember from my youth.

But again, I digress.

We spent the day at Greg's parent's house -- alternately visiting with granny upstairs. Knowing that I had a lot to do tonight -- prior to leaving town -- and knowing I didn't have dinner ready -- we stopped at Arby's. It's not a big place -- maybe only 8 tables. My kids took up three of them.

Just as we started eating, a guy called my name. I looked up wondering who it was. Since I'm not from here I don't run into people from high school or anything. My blank stare must have said a lot. The guy said, "You are Tacie, right?" Then he introduced himself.

Turns out, it was a friend of Greg's. He said he guessed who we were based on the fact that all of our kids look so much like Greg. (Still, he must have seen some of our pictures on Facebook.) We started talking -- for all of two seconds -- when Kenzie, who was sitting across the table from me -- started making a strange sound. I turned. Much to my dismay, I discovered foreign matter spewing forth from her mouth...all over our table (and consequently our food) as well as her clothes and lap.

Hello first impressions.

I quickly excused myself and grabbed Kenzie. Clearly the "not-more-than-minimum-wage-earner" behind the counter did not sense the urgency of the situation. And sadly, the bathrooms were located outside the building -- only to be accessed by key. Hastily, I grabbed the keys from her, grabbed Kenzie, and said something to the effect of, "I'm really sorry. My daughter just threw up all over back there. You might want to send someone out before all the other people notice." (Yeah, as if it's possible not to notice something like that when the entire seating area is about 8 x 8).

I got Kenzie stripped down and put her in the car. Then, I promptly returned the restroom key and instructed the other kids to grab everything. We were leaving. (Thankfully, the "more-than-minimum-wage-earner" from behind the counter had already cleaned everything up -- with a smile. I apologized profusely as she continued to smile and said, "It's ok. I hope she feels better.") (Note to self: Write a letter to the manager of Arby's -- thanking that girl for her service.)

As I was clearing off the rest of our table, I went to Greg's friend to apologize again -- and to congratulate him on his new baby. In my haste to multi-task, the trashcan lid bounced back and knocked the nearly-full lemonade from the tray onto the floor.

Oh yes. I do know how to make an impression.
As if my rain-soaked appearance and vomitting child weren't enough...

The happy Arby's employee was right behind me -- ready to clean up again. She was still smiling and told me not to worry about it. (No doubt she was thinking (and rightfully so), "Lady --get the heck out of here!"

And that is what we did. We vacated...not prettily - -but certainly promptly.

Yeah. It must be the rain.

Bring on the Florida sunshine.