You read that right. For a solid week it was me versus them with no Internet.
First- The loss of Internet
I had not realized how entangled I have become with my love of the Internet. When the signal first faded I sat at my laptop and hit refresh for a good 20 minutes. Then a restart. Then another restart.
Finally I called our provider. It was then I was told the awful news- your dish is windblown. We will not be able to come up for a WEEK.
There was an icy hand had clutched my heart at this moment. I felt faint.
No....Internet? What will I do?
Groom suggested housework. Not just normal housework but that deep down cleaning involving gloves and pails of water. Bwha ha. Uh, how about no?
It was then I had went back to the laptop and tried to brainwash it into working. When that didn't happen I admitted defeat and packed it away. Just looking at it reminded me of all the good times we have had together. The chatting, the shopping,..well that's really it. But there was a LOT of it.
Phase 2- The children
As Large Fry spent the majority of this at school, he was not as affected by the loss of Internet. Only when he came home from school did he realize that he could not go on his "lappy" and was doubting my knowledge on the subject, asking every 3 minutes "Is the Internets back?"
I get the feeling he was holding this out for me:
It was me vs Small Fry. Small Fry seems to have a good knack for finding people at their weak moments. He was trouble with a capital T all week.
I folded laundry--he unfolded it.
I put the laundry away--he took it out of the drawers
I mopped the floor--he squirted milk all over it
I cleaned the bathroom--he put toilet paper all over it
I loaded the dishwasher--he unloaded it
I made the beds--he tore the blankets off
This when on all week but one day was really bad. So bad I said fuck it once it was over and had my version of a drink: Reese's Pieces ice cream.
He's a force but I thought I could take him. I put him in the BJD or the Baby Jail Device aka the crib after he had systematically went through the above list, destroying my work and my plan to sit on my ass later.
I put on Godforsaken Mickey Mouse and I attempt to redo everything I just listed. I hear him baby babbling and laughing hysterically. Ahh Mickey. You never fail me do you? You just sing your songs and find your clues and entertain my child while I get some shit done so I can sit on my ass in front of TV later and tell Groom how motherfucking hard I worked all damn day and he should leave me alone to bask in the results of my hard work and my secret TV crush.
It was when the giggles grew louder that I became concerned. Now I know Mickey can be a riot but this was a bit on the dark side of laughter. A cross between Darth Vader and Bugs Bunny with a stern "NO!" entered ever so often. So I peak in and discover that he had pulled EVERYTHING from the shelving unit about his crib off. All the diapers, wipes, bears, everything. He was in the middle of throwing ALL the medicine to the ground (He had already pulled all the wipes out) and resulting in laughing hysterics when they hit the ground.
He hands me one with the most beautiful smile and says "TANK-TOO!"
Seriously?! From the CRIB you have managed to create more work. It's a special gift my son..a special gift you have. The ability to be fully confined and yet still create total chaos around you.
We are all seriously going to fear him one day. I hope he remembers I was once the ass wiper when he takes over the world.