Saturday: My Life is one Big Day Off

When Ivan begins to write his Mommy Dearest/ Running With Scissors-esque memoirs, I am certain that he will start with a story that I realized today is absolutely true:  Every time he gets a Happy Meal, I eat his french fries.  I think there is a possibility that he has never tasted a McDonald's french fry.  He has certainly eaten french fries, just not McDonald's.  He does not even ask about the fries, and he is probably afraid to, because I suspect I start in on the fries with the intensity of a grizzly bear just awakened from hibernation.

Today, in yet another foolish decision on my part, Ivan and I decided to head to McDonald's for an early lunch and some time in the play place, which ultimately went sour as it always does.  I ordered an oatmeal, for a late breakfast and ordered Ivan a Happy Meal for an early lunch, but first somehow, ate all of Ivan's fries.  Does that not sound like the worst carbohydrate combination you have EVER heard?  Fries, then oatmeal.  I mean, I am pretty disgusted with myself, though it was not half bad.  I realize that I am gestating and maybe a gestating person has a higher propensity for odd food couplings than your average person or maybe french fries go with everything and that is all there is to it.

Anyway, our play time went South when young Sloan was given a 15 minute leave time warning, and he climbed the great play place tower of death and refused to come down. This lasted for a good 20 minutes until he finally dropped his guard and slid down the slide where he was grabbed by the ankle, and hustled with many a reprimanding word to the car.  Consequences were administered, and ultimately ended in a pleasant afternoon at home.

Settled in to watch the third installation of PBS's Prohibition series.  It is fabulous!!!