This week (not this calendar week but the past 7 days) has truly been odd. One moment I’m acting all adult-like and, the next minute, the inner child in me breaks her restraints and goes *streaking through the house.
One one hand, I had to set the limits and explain to Gabriel why he is not allowed to pretend to be a puppy dog and drink from the toilet. I mean, I can hang with the pretending to be a puppy but a big ix-nay on the toilet bowl snorkeling expedition. This message becomes very hard to convey when your inner 12 yr old breaks free and has you laughing so hard you are crying and literally can’t speak when you can your husband to tell him about the toilet snorkeling expedition.
I also spent part of the week proctoring end of grade tests at the elementary school. For those of you not in the know, proctoring EOGs allows adult volunteers to help oversee the testing process and helps ensure honesty and deter cheating…at least, that is what they tell the parents. In reality, it’s a sadistic yet subtle way to torment the parents. It is so mind-numbingly dull that it turns you into a gibbering idiot by the end of the day. I think they stole the idea from the master torturers who ran the Inquisition…yes, it is THAT bad. To counterpoint this distressing evidence of maturity, I offer up my week long fascination with drawing and coloring and the moment that I ran with scissors (I did, I really).
I’ve been a one woman example of the contrast that lives in all of us.
Has your week been more sober, serious adult or has your inner 12 year old gone streaking through the house?
* I promise, no retinas were burned by the sight of my pasty white skin.