I want the pantry organized, I want my maternity clothes dealt with, I want the boys clothes gone through and I want the van detailed.
I've been itching to get outside and work. I'm just like my mother. The sunshine and fresh air is therapeutic. I needed to do something to help get over this little "funk" I'm in since Mike left. I've been feeling unmotivated and blah.
Being pregnant with two toddlers and driving a trashed out minivan can put you in a funk all by itself --without Dad having to leave.
The only thing I can fix about that is the trashed out part of the minivan.
So Hannah and I set to work. She worked the inside widows while I (and my little "helpers") did the outside.
I'm scrubbing away on the passenger side door having already directed the boys to stay away from the hose and to not spill the bucket of soapy water.
I glance up to see Jack standing about 5 feet away with the spray nozzle aiming right at me. He's looking up at me with a look I've never seen from him before. It was serious. As if he'd just been transferred to the front lines in a battle. I was the enemy and he was the hero. I put my hand up toward him to signal "stop" or "don't do that". Never dreaming that he would spray me. --I really had no idea he would pull the trigger.
But his little mind was in the zone. The war zone. No amount of pleading for mercy from me was going to affect his determination to carry out his duty. He had to.
He shot me square in the heart. The nozzel was set on "shower" so he also managed to wet my face and entire torso.
Anger welled up in me as I quickly tried to process what happened, figure out how to express my displeasure and decide how to punish.
"Ahh... Jack!!! Stop that!! You got me all wet!!! ... Go sit on the porch!!!"
That's what I came up with.
It was as if you could see Jack being transported back to Montana Street --instantly.
His eyes changed from the "soldier" look to an "oh my gosh what have I done" look.
He put down the hose and walked over to the porch.
He didn't say anything.
Ty hearing the tone in my voice decided it would be the safest for him to comply with whatever instructions I'd just given Jack, so he went over and squatted beside Jack.
You know what he says right after Hannah took these pictures?
I think he'd been sitting there on the porch trying to come up with an explanation for when I asked him, "Why did you do that?"
He couldn't tell me about the war he'd been fighting. I'd never buy it.
He couldn't tell me, "I'm just a boy, this is what we do," cause he doesn't yet know it.
So he just blurts out:
"I thought you needed a wash."