Evening Ramblings

My youngest had her third tee ball game, yesterday. Tee ball is hysterical to watch! Of course, by game 3, most kids now know the correct direction in which to run the bases, so the really funny stuff happens in the outfield. I have categorized kids into two categories: the kids who stay in the exact location that the coach places them in the field, not moving an inch for the entire inning. Not even if the ball drops six inches away from them, will they move to retrieve it. The other kind of kid is the kind who runs for the ball no matter where it goes in relationship to where they are. Just guess what kind of kid I have. Yup. I have a runner. My child was supposed to be the third baseman. A ball was hit to the first baseman, and my daughter takes off at a sprint across the field for the ball, followed by about half the team. The really funny thing is that she got to it at the same time that the first baseman picked it up. It landed about a foot away from him. He must have been a "stay put" kind of kid.

On the way home from the game, the kids conspired to vote on stopping at Braums for shakes. Their debating skills are getting quite good. My oldest son is entering that stage of life where he is kind of a "wise guy" and he always has a comeback or some kind of comment for the situation.

As we pulled into Braums, he said, "I figured you'd see it my way." I just looked at him. I think my eyebrows disappeared into my hairline, but I am not sure. I pulled into the drive thru. Next to the battered speaker is a sign that says, Mic is broken. Please yell really loud.

I'll admit it. I am gullible. I yell into the speaker, "I'LL HAVE FOUR CHOCOLATE SHAKES, PLEASE." Now, I have four children, but I wanted my oh, so witty son to think that I was getting them for the other three kids and me. This was completely lost on him until his brother said, "Dude--I don't think Mom ordered you one."

Oldest son, with typical ten-year-old cocky tone: "Yes, she did--she ordered FOUR."

Younger brother: "Yeah, and there are FIVE of us."

Oldest son: "Mom never gets one, because she thinks it'll make her fat."--hmm, observant, aren't they?

Younger brother: "I think she ordered one for herself, this time."

Oldest son looking a bit panicked for the first time: "Did you get me one, Mom?"

I give him that look. You know, the ones moms are famous for--the you just might've made a less than stellar choice, buddy look. We get to the window. I, try to be polite and strike up a conversation.

Me: "The sign next to your speaker says that it is broken and to yell really loud. Were you able to hear me?"

Poor Braums Employee with completely baffled look on his face: "What?? There isn't anything wrong with our speaker. At least I don't think so--hold on..." he turns to consult with the assistant manager, who doesn't appear to be old enough to drive, let alone manage a fast food restaurant. "Nope--there's nothing wrong with our speaker."

Me, stupidly: "But you have a sign that says it's broken."

Poor Braums Employee, grinning: "Someone must've put it there for a prank. I wondered why everyone in the drive thru was yelling at the top of their lungs."

At least I am not the only gullable one in my tiny town. By this time, my kids, especially the Smart Alec ten-year-old are laughing hysterically. The shakes are passed out to the passengers of the car. First my oldest daughter, then my youngest son, then my youngest daughter. My oldest son looks expectantly at the one in my hand. He still isn't convinced. I now pass out straws, in the same order. He still waits expectantly for the shake. It isn't until I start taking off the last straw's wrapper and insert it into the top of the cup that he gets this incredulous look on his face and says, "You REALLY didn't get me one??"

I take a long and satisfying swig on the shake. Finally, the reaction I was hoping for. I hand the shake over to him. You can see the relief on his face. "Got you!" I say.

Now you might ask, Who exactly was the grownup in that situation? And what exactly was the point of that blog?

Answer: No grownup--My husband has been out of town for three days--I am tired of being the grownup-- and there is no point to this blog, except for you the reader to be able to have a candid peek into the uneventful life I sometimes lead.

Disclaimer: Don't try this at home. This type of parenting is not endorsed by Dr. James Dobson, Dr. Sears, Gary Ezzo, or anyone who knows what they are doing at all in terms of parenting.