Saturday, was filled with aggravation, miscommunication, and everything else that could spoil an expensive Wagyu rib eye. Almost.
This weekend my husband and I celebrated our 9Th year wedding anniversary. Whilst, under the impression that I had stepped out of my usual element and had things drawn up as to who would keep who (speaking of my 3 children), I found out that change doesn't always mean that everything will run smoothly. I had made plans approximately two or three months in advance. Each month I tried to elude or directly let my family know that come October 29, dispersing the kids should be like giving a shopaholic a $10,000 shopping spree in return for a mere ride to the mall. However, I didn't think to make sure confirmation was made the week of.
Even still, my husband and I had a wonderful time, the kids were safe with our family, and I look forward to sharing many more with him. There is just one thing. After we'd had a beautiful day and it was time to go home, my youngest little monkey called and said, "Mommy, I want to come home." So while the other two were gone and having fun away from their boring mom and dad, the little one packed her bags and called for the Greyhound, otherwise known as, us. Though, we weren't able to come home alone, snuggle and watch scary movies, we were given something even better. A show of a little cute silly monkey jumping in our bed. I suppose she never heard of the the story, Five Little Monkeys Jumping in the Bed.
Until next time, remember not to answer the phone when it's your anniversary and the person who has your kids call...
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