There Are No Words...

I do not know what to say. My punishment, combined with Zach's punishment?

Here are the events of the day: Zach got up, went to work. I got up, did stuff, Jacob got up, I fed him and then spent the next 2 hours gradually getting ready for a 12:30 appointment. I left for said appointment and returned 2 hours later, the same time Zach arrived home for a late lunch. The 3 of us spent time in the kitchen, and we actually let Mango in and had her sitting obediently away from the table. Zach left shortly after to go back to work. I got on the phone for about 45 minutes and gave Mango little pats on the head while I was in and out of the room. Then, just before taking Jacob and leaving for work, I made the bold move of putting the little dog in her cage.

The most outrageous thing I could report is that she actually found something to get to while in the cage, but I can't say that's what happened. Zach came home and let her out. I don't know how much actual attention she got from him, but it probably wasn't much before he left them alone again to get to work on the back porch (foreshadowing here).

All the while Jacob and I were still at my work. At 7:15 we left work to drive home. A couple quick stops and we were here. I met my mom at the door because she and Jamie are hanging out tonight. My mom is watching the Gilmore Girls (new episode on tv right now) with me and Jamie is doing the guy thing out on the back porch with Zach and Jacob. Marisa is here too, upstairs playing with Jacob's new wooden kitchen. I'm not necessarily happy with the clearly divided gender roles going on with the kids right now - I thought they would want to play together - but at least no one is yelling at anyone else.

Here's a play-by-play: I get home, unload Jacob and all our stuff. My mom gets to the door the same time as me and she opens it as I come falling in with all my stuff. Bags let to the floor, Jacob's coat and shoes off, my eyes are free to wander. I see pieces, pieces of something on the floor in the distance. I don't have my glasses on (see next blog for explanation) so it's hard to make it out what the damage is. My mom follows my line of regard and then my gaze meets hers. "What was it?" I mouth so as not to alert Jacob's attention until I know it's something he won't be concerned with. "I already told Zach..." she offers. I walk closer, put my hand up to my ear so she can whisper. "Hudson Valley hat," she declares.

"Get out!" I'm shouting. "You have GOT to be kidding me!" I hadn't worn a hat since the Thanksgiving incident, kind of a mourning period of sorts. But I did wear a hat today. I went to the eye doctor and couldn't have eye make up on so a hat it was. I purused my options and came up with the green Hudson Valley hat, circa 2005, only slightly broken in. This was not my first choice; I would have preferred the brown Carhaart hat that Zach wears for 'working' in, the kind of work that is happening on the back porch right now. That one is nicely broken in, and to be an appropriate adoption hat, one needs to have history. So just before leaving for work, I picked up the green hat I had worn earlier, made a sigh of resignation, and told the little hat, "I guess you'll have to do." There must have been ominous music playing somewhere in the background, because then, in a gutsy move, I placed my new hat on top of Jacob's Muck hat which was hung on the post to the changing table which now serves as a toy shelf. See the symbolism here? A parent laying his body over the child in the ultimate act of sacrifice.

The end.