Friday, December 28, 2007
I woke up this morning with one goal in mind.
Get the fuck out of this fucking house as soon as fucking possible.
Personally I think this is reasonable. I've been under virtual house arrest for eleven days. That's a long time in a 926 square foot house with three kids who got a karaoke machine for Hanukkah. Remember when Martha Stewart was under house arrest and everyone was like "Oh that's not so bad"? They should have sent her here. (1)
Being almost forty, I have lots of experience leaving the house. First thing you need to do is choose a destination. This is way harder than it sounds. There are THREE of those little people (2) and only one of me. One just had knee surgery so nothing with too much walking. They have way different interests and little ability to compromise.
So the mall it is.
Don't get all scoffy at me. I considered other things. I thought about the zoo, but then I remembered that tiger that escaped at the San Francisco zoo. Eli's already paranoid that the tiger wants to eat him, so that's out.
Then I thought about the natural history museum. Get a little education into everyone, try to salvage their tv-addled brains. But Eli's afraid the dinosaur will eat him.
Christmas is over, Santa's gone. Nobody's going to try to eat him at the mall.
So the mall it was. My long-time reader will remember a little bet I had with PCSguy that I could stay out of the mall from Thanksgiving until Christmas (3) so this was exciting stuff.
You know what? It was a major letdown. The kids got haircuts. We ate a couple of tacos. We admired the animal decorations. But when Eli got tired we turned tail and left. It's possible that my six week hiatus was like Phase One of the South Beach Mall diet. I no longer crave it.
But you know what else? I got out of the house. Mission complete.
Oh, and nobody got eaten. Bonus.
1) That would have worked out well, actually. That would be punishment for her and she could have helped me sort out my tupperware cabinet.
2) Did I say that already? This, extended vacation we can call it, has allowed me plenty of time to count and recount my children.
3) A bet I won.