Today we planted the garden. And when I say "planted the garden" what I mean is, we threw some seeds in the ground today and something may or may not come of it, and none of us really give a shit at this point.
At 9am this morning I insisted that the children stop watching Narnia and go outside. They seemed at a loss. Why in god's name would they go outside? What is there to do out there? And gosh, it's just so horrible outside. In the yard. With the grass and the dog and the playhouse. In Hawaii. What a terrible idea.
From behind the mountain of laundry I was tackling, I suggested that they pull the old dead plants out of our raised garden beds, and plant some of the seeds we bought last week. And they certainly perked right up at that suggestion, in fact when I came into the living room moments later, they were running outside in their pajamas pulling on gardening gloves and fighting over the pruning shears.
"Wait, waitwaitwait WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
"Uh. Gardening?" Max looked at me like I was losing my mind.
"Like you told us to." Lucy piped up, barely disguising her disgust with my feeble, feeble mind.
"Not in your pajamas. Are you serious? Do you seriously think I meant for you to go out and dig in the garden in your pajamas?"
"YOU'RE in your pajamas." Max pointed out.
"Dude. I am always in my pajamas. I go grocery shopping in my pajamas. But I do not sleep in my pajamas. I wear them like clothes. You wear CLOTHES like clothes, and you sleep in your pajamas. You cannot wear your pajamas to garden, and then wear them to bed."
They both looked at me with their mouths hanging open. And really, who's to blame them. Even I don't understand the point I was trying to make.
"Just go get dressed."
So they dutifully ran back into the house. And then back out again, dressed in playclothes. I was in the garden. In my pajamas. Shut up.
We spent half an hour pulling up weeds. And dead corn stalks. And frizzled yellow cilantro. From the last time we tried to grow stuff. We pulled off the ground cover that had crept into the boxes during a subsequent period of neglect. We discussed which seeds would go in which planter. The dog tried to take a shit in one of the planters. Much yelling and stomping of feet commenced. The dog lifted his leg, took a quick piss, and trotted off.
After about 30 minutes, we were all bored. And hot. "I'm tired." Max announced as he ran up and down the path over and over again for no fucking reason at all. "I'm hungry." begged Lucy as she finished up her second gogurt of the morning. "I'm over this." I agreed. "Let's just get these seeds in the ground and call it a day."
"I don't want to." Lucy whined. "I don't care anymore." Max muttered.
"I hear ya." I agreed.
So we ripped open 4 seed packets, sprinkled the seeds liberally into the boxes, and tossed the envelopes in the garbage can.
"We have to water these." I hollered after the kids as they disappeared into the house. You could hear their feet screech to a halt. "With the hose?" they asked incredulously.
"Yeah, get the hose and spray the-"
Which is when I was hit, full blast, right in the ass, with the jet setting of our garden hose.
I turned around slowly, my pajamas dripping around my ankles.
"Ooops. Sorry mom." Max was barely disguising his smirk.
"Really? Really. You don't look sorry. You look like you're laughing, actually." I was picking my underwear out of my ass where they had been firmly wedged by the water pressure.
"It was an accident." he insisted.
"No, I don't think it was."
"See mommy" said Lucy. "That's why you don't wear pajamas to work in the garden."
Tomorrow: we return to the fun room. In which we are hemming AND hanging curtains with a staple gun.
13 hours ago