When Jeremy’s gone, I really enjoy not having to worry about anyone or anything once the kids are in bed. It’s not an ideal situation, but I make the best of things. I have booby trapped the stairs so that any children who creep out of bed to look for me will have a nasty surprise. I have my glass of wine and my Fallout 3, and it’s pretty great.
There’s a problem, though. Internet videos. Cats, dogs, this guy:
I’m ready for bed by 11 but stay up until 1 watching koalas take baths. It’s ridiculous.
I’m super tired.
A few days ago, Emmy came up to me, and this is the conversation that we had:
Emmy: Mom, how do queens dress?
Me: Uuuuh, I don’t know. Depends on the country and time period.
Emmy: sigh No. Mom. Like a DRAG queen.
Me: Whuuuh.
Me: Where did you hear about drag queens, Emmy?
Emmy: A Bee Movie!
So I guess that’s one of the adults jokes that didn’t go completely over her head.
We got a new car. Hahah. “New.” It’s a 2004 Civic Hybrid. I looove it. So far I’m averaging 40 mpg. The dealership gave us $15 of gas at the local station for being patient while a repair took a long time. In van-money, that’s about $36 in gas. I’ve driven all over town in this thing, and still haven’t expended a whole gallon of gas.
It’s like owning a spaceship, with all the digital meters on the dashboard, in cool blue and green. I will probably kill us all with distracted driving. It looks almost exactly like this:
I feel like I should install some rockets and a friendly but sarcastic robot.
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