Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Sleepiness and Taxes


Finally! I started this post several hours ago, but everytime I try typing a few words, I hear the call. "Hey, mom..."

Mini is now in bed and I have warned the rest of the house there shall be merciless carnage if anyone asks me for a single thing else today. In short, I've clocked out for the evening - find your own damn socks.

Oy, I'm tired. I stayed up until 3 AM last night to finish the rewrites on the requested story, and the good news is I managed to get them sent off. I'm happy with how things turned out, but it's all in the editor's hands now so cross your fingers for me.

I got out of bed this morning at 6 AM. Mini is feeling much better, and after his case of ick the night before, he woke up and wanted to eat everything. Nom, nom, nom. More, please! I was worried he'd upchuck again from the sheer volume of food mixed with precarious Pokemon Rap dancing. Amazing how resilient kidlets are.

Hubby decided this morning that we should do our taxes, so that's what we set out to do today. First, however, he had to get both Jeeps serviced, so he took Mini with him and drove BBQ Jeep up to Snappy Lube and got the oil change, etc. etc. Then he came back, picked up Mustard and got her serviced too. That took a couple hours, and by the time he got back home my coffee had all but worn off. Oy vey.

Hubby was very much on step, doing his perky drill sargeant cry "let's go, let's go, let's go!" and I could only warn him with my eyes while twisting my hair into a bun and snapping it in place with clips - you know, the I'm awake what the eff more do you want? hairstyle? Um, yeah, that would be it. Still half asleep, I slipped into my Docs and grabbed the file of yearly receipts from the desk drawer, and I am happy to report that despite that bumpy start, there were no incidents of bloodshed.

We took Mini out to Gram's house, because there is nothing more horrifying that trying to appease a tax agent with a grabby (and gabby) toddler on your lap. That, my friends, is a thing of nightmares. Trust me on that. Do not want.

Mom was thrilled to see the Minibeast, and she showed me the camping kit that she bought him - it's not a real camping kit, of course, but a neat little package with a play sized, pop up tent in it and some binoculars and things like that. Cool beans! If I were a bit smaller, I'd crawl in the darn tent with him and we could scout for signs of an alien invasion or something like that.

Before I could get out the door (hubby was waiting in the Jeep with the engine running) Mini decided I must witness the brilliance that is his mad tricycling skills. Mom helped him drag out the tricycle, and he nearly ran right over Blossom, mom's dog, while barreling through the house, but I gotta say the whole thing - definitely not something to be missed. I clapped and Yay!-ed for him because he was soooo excited that he can pedal. Some seriously fun and hilarious stuff.

That definitely put a bright spin on the day, but I couldn't stick around for long. I had to get back out to the Jeep before Hubster came in looking for me. We drove to town and managed to get the taxes done. We got a really nice preparer this go around, too. As much as I wanted to wait until the last minute procrastinate a little longer, I'm really glad we got it out of the way. One less thing to worry about.

Godfather's birthday is this week, so I've got to make a run to Ruston at some point. We bought him this enormous potted aloe, a really gorgeous plant, and I'm going to pick up a card and a mini-cake for him before we make the trek. Also, we promised to haul two of our spare Jeep tires to him - he needs them for his Cherokee.

So that is the news today. Ok. Well, actually there is more. But I've been working on this blog post for, oh, about six hours in total now, so I'm calling it a night. I hope you all had a snazzy Tuesday!

2 comments:

  1. Ugh I hate taxes! Thank god hubby does them on the computer. I usually help him inventory his bag-bag stuff, though, so I never escape completely unscathed. *sigh*

    I'm glad Mini's better. I hope you evade the ickies, dear.

    ReplyDelete
  2. So far no kiddie ick for me. I've got my fingers crossed it stays that way. :*)

    Oy, taxes... you're lucky your hubby would take the brunt. We did our own taxes a few times, and each time I got this overwhelming desire to perform a Bart Simpson neck choke on nearby family members. So now we go to the little tax shack in town. ROFL!

    BTW, I saw your fun X marks the spot list on facebook - you've been a lot of fun places!


    veri word: canguer

    Teehee! Sounds like a drunken slur of some kind. What do you think? ^_^

    ReplyDelete

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