220... 221, whatever it takes.

Due to a series of unfortunate events I found myself at McDonald's in Huntsville, Texas this past Monday at lunch. Not for me. I won't eat that crap. I've always been wary of McDonald's - even before that cat made the documentary. I've always felt that Ronald McDonald was akin to a crack dealer. Low price, high sugary food. Evil. If you're on the fence about it, no worries, how about a free toy in that Happy Meal. Still not convinced...we have a playground! But, it doesn't really matter what I think, in the end, the Boy(s) are hooked - hopeless addicts, and they both screamed for it as we rolled up 45 on our way back to the Messoplex.

That is why I found myself sandwiched between two prison guards with Boy #2 who is 1 in my arms, and Boy #1 who is 3 between my legs on that fine Monday Monday. Trying to place an order to feed my hungry progeny all by my lonesome. Mr.Mom. That was me. You see, Carter was East (as in Richmond, VA for a funeral) and I was in the West with the Boy(s), by myself. Did I mention that I had to pee. Bad. So, in line, waiting to order, holding one Boy, another holding onto my leg, and jerking around, bladder full of urine, uncomfortably close to two large prison guards in a McDonald's in Huntsville Texas.

Sweet Mother of goodness, I think I'll stick to my day job, because I don't think I'm cut out for full time Mr. Mom duty. What would you do. You have to urinate (bad.) You have two Boy(s) who take after their Mom in regard to food (if they go without food for to long they lose their shit.) The restaurant is BUSY. The Boy in your arms wants down to roam, the one between your legs (who keeps bumping into your nether region, and remember you need to pee) wants to be held. You are being bumped into by two large, burly prison guards, who don't find your kids all that cuddly and cute...they just want their McFat Sandwich so they can get back to guarding Texas' Most Wanted.

That crazy enough. Ok. Fast forward past ordering and the next 10 minutes of waiting for your food and trying to keep Boy #2 from getting out of your arms, and Boy #1 out of the play area while you wait for your food all the while doing a looped tape explanation to him on why he can't go to the play area without you.

Ding ding ding ding...food is ready. Now the fun part. Doing all the above while you navigate the BUSY self service station for soft drinks and ketchup. Finally, you make it through that endurance test, and by the grace of all that is pure, you don't spill anything. Now it is time to settle into a table in the play area while a few other actual "moms" eye you warily thinking you might be some sort of sicko pervert trolling for kids. You still have to pee too...and at this point, you're considering wetting yourself vs. trying to figure out how to get to the other side of the restaurant to use the facilities. No time for that anyway...you need to get the food out of the bag, find a high chair for Boy #2 that has to be cleaned from the previous user, and all you can think about is this: Did I leave the wet wipes in the car?!?!?! You don't have time to worry for long, because both Boy(s) are screaming...at first you think it is for their food...but soon realize they could give a give a shit about the shit (read: food) - all they want is their Happy Meal Toy. As you try to open them up and distribute in an equitable manner, another Boy in the play area approaches you to see what sort of toy you got. Snotty nose, dirty, you don't see cute kid, all you see is a Carrier monkey, and wonder if you have any Purell.

Never again, will I wonder what my Lovely Bride did all day when I come home to find the house in complete chaos, looking as if a twister has struck the inside of our casa. Never again will I think twice when she tells me she didn't have a chance to shower that day, or find time to run by the grocery store to pick up some little something. Never again will I question if it takes her a few days to find the time to call a repair person.

Never again.

I played Mr. Mom for just a brief period of time, and, I decided something. My Lovely Bride (and all those like her) deserve danger pay...and a bonus, which based on my experience should be a box of Depend.

Until I BLOG again...