No one knows why I chose to take my two younger kids out to breakfast at Denny's this morning, least of all I. (Is that correct grammar? "Least of all I"? Or should it be "least of all me"? I think "I" goes with "No one knows," but even a grammar fanatic like me [not I] doesn't know this.) Anyway, they were hellions. They should just sell you one mini pancake with whipped cream on it, for like $0.39, the kid would still just eat half of it. I guess that's not conducive to their cash flow.
Then we went to Value Village. I let the kids out of the cart to play with the toys. 'Nuff said.
Couldn't go to Costco cause they only take debit. All I have is debit, true. But I forgot the PIN. So, I'm fucked. Realized later I had a checkbook, but the "V-8" head-slam is kind of out of fashion, so me skipped it.
Once home, started on a large cleaning-up stint 'cause we had company coming this afternoon. Washed Brian's dishes--dammit, Brian!!--as well as wine glasses which have been sitting for weeks. We only wash them when we've run out. I don't care how much the previous tenant sang the praises of this Bosch dishwasher, it's not nearly as versatile as the Maytag I just left. Spiegelau doesn't fit in it any which way.
Mid-suds, I looked up suddenly and asked Gabe if he'd seen the kids lately. He hadn't. I recalled that I'd last seen them on the upper slope of the driveway. Rhone had said something about trying to get Bella to walk up the hill with him. We looked around the house and called. I could hear Rhone calling back, but not from where. I took off loping up the driveway and over the crest and sure enough, there they were, hanging out in the yard of the house "next door" (it's out of sight, up the hill, 100 yards away). Jesus.
"Rhone, you need to stay where you can see the house."
"So CPS doesn't come and get Mommy and Daddy." No. Self-censoring, ON. "Because that helps Mommy and Daddy know that you're safe."
"Oh." That sounded remarkably unconvinced.
I made PB&Js for them. Rhone asked for some of Daddy's special salt on his. "You want fleur de sel on your peanut butter sandwich?" I asked.
"No, I just want that stuff. In the plastic bag." Uh-huh. Only Gabe's kid.
Later, got Jez to nap and had Rhone watching a movie, and I worked more on the dishes. It's awfully rare to actually "finish" the dishes here, but I worked more on them. Standing at the kitchen sink I could see a deer in our meadow and a hummingbird at the kitchen window feeder. Life is good here.
Kelly Doscher came over this afternoon with her six-month-old daugher, Loralei. What a cutie. I am way too loud for babies now. Have I gotten louder or more explosive? Or were my kids used to that? We had a great visit, chatting and passing the babies back and forth all afternoon.
Gabe made a most fantastic dinner of fresh pasta (with the dough Brian left after his interview food, thanks, BOC) and a bright arugula salad with large slivers of parm. He asked Rhone during dinner "what was the name of this cheese?" and Rhone replied, "The king's cheese." I had no idea what he was talking about until Gabe explained he'd translated Reggiano.
Terrill said he's coming over later tonight. I think we're going to watch a movie while we wait for him to get here. We've been talking about watching "From Dusk til Dawn" and finally got it on Netflix. Likely T will show up right at the juicy part (literally) and scare the living shit out of us. 'Nother reason why we need a dog.