Welcome Back, Kotter

My husband arrived home after a week out of town for work tonight. He was greeted by his three children in their individual, typical fashions:

  • 3of3 ran up to him, said, "Dadda?" and then whined and clawed at me for the rest of the night. Because she likes to make him work for it, that's why. (She's going to make some lucky man exceptionally miserable someday.) At one point, I am pretty sure she attempted to actually return herself to her original packaging, but, um, hell no? Exit only, sister.

  • 2of3 came whizzing around the corner from the backyard to see his dad. "Hi Dad! What'cha get me?" He was marched back around that corner and told to try again.

  • 1of3 sauntered on over when he was damn good and ready, sorta kinda gave his father something vaguely resembling a hug, they high-fived, and then they spent the rest of the night on the couch snuggled up to each other, watching TV shows I wouldn't let this kid watch if tv was being executed tomorrow.

That's not all dad came home to, though. I managed to get the sheets washed and the laundry done, but while he was gone:

  • The DVD player in our room broke, reasons unknown

  • The towel bar thing in the washroom just, well, fell off

  • The back sliding glass door doesn't so much slide anymore as it scrapes and shrieks its way to 3/4 of the way closed, then just gives up

  • The boys' screen for their window took a four story fall to the ground after a rather spirited pillow fight while I was sleeping, and has since been propped up against their bookshelves, awaiting dad's return

  • I bought Asparagus and Cheese raviolis for dinner by mistake. We had pigs in a blanket instead, because NO

  • The 6 gallons of ice cream I bought melted, separated, and then re-froze. Yeah, gross

  • My car smells like vomit with really stinky feet

But at least everyone is alive, however barely, and the floors are mopped.