This week has been a tough one - Matty has been working past midnight at his office every night, sometimes not getting home until 2 am. IV and I have been plodding along, bringing him lunch and dinner, cleaning, tending to the animals, visiting the library, doing our thing. We also took PR photos at Austin Middle School for a Mario's Seawall spaghetti dinner fundraiser and I had to call Non-Emergency on a crazy drunk man who fell down in the street.
I swear, this crap only happens to me. Hey friends, it's why I blog!
Aren't you glad?!?
Back to the story.
We get used to one another, don't we? Tracing the patterns of our days until they wear a groove into our lives. When something interrupts it, we scratch. Still play. But scratch.
I am lucky girl. Spoiled, is really more like it.
While IV and I cuddle in bed each morning, talking, hiding under the covers, stealing the last minutes before our day starts, Matty makes me coffee (one splenda, splash of cream), cooks us breakfast (whole wheat anything and an egg for me, oatmeal or bacon for IV) and brings it up for us.
It never fails. IV's jaw drops when Matty walks in with breakfast like he's the Queen of England and this is just about the coolest thing that could ever happen.
Sometimes Matty even packs IV's lunch to save me more time. He feeds the dogs and get our train moving.
We tag in when breakfast is delivered, Matty gets ready, I make beds, dress IV (you have no idea the battles that entail because I insist on a collared shirt for school), tidy the house and turn down the thermostats, shuffle the dogs (and now chickens), load the car and off we go.
Now, this probably sounds all serene and lovely and whatnot but you KNOW ME, and this is really how the morning goes:
IV crawls into bed with us at 6:45 AM. Dozes in and out for 10 minutes. Sits straight up and says:
"OH MYYYYY GAAAAWWWWSH"
THUNK. Face first back into the sheets.
Matty and I died laughing.
Welcome to Friday.
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