Morning routine

February 9, 2009

At Casa de Dos Quesos we manage to operate pretty close to total, free floating chaos. To a large part, it is because we are not organized people. But to an even greater degree, it is because, even when we are organized, we are busy. And 4 different organizations do not meld seamlessly into a whole.

Take a recent Saturday morning, for example. The day before, #1 Son called to inform us that he had abandoned his car in the school parking lot. #2 Son had left the door ajar, and the dome light had drained the battery.

The temperature was near zero (and that would be Fahrenheit, for any metric readers). Since the car refused to respond to jumper cables. A new battery was needed. And a new day, when it wasn’t quite so damn cold.

New battery moved to the #1 slot of the DH’s morning to-do list.

No problem.

But #1 Son had a swim meet to get to. To make the bus, I would need to drive him in the car. DH would take the mini-van to buy a battery for the dead Oldsmobile.

Again, no problem. I am on the second book deadline for the year, and living in imaginary England, most of the time. But if you tap me on the shoulder long enough, I will get out of my desk chair for driving duties.

#1 Son and I were, as always, running on time but close to late. DH called to say the car was ready, and to meet him at the high school for a vehicle swap.

We were heading for the garage when #2 Son returned from walking Havoc, who is on his way to being rechristened Faildog.

#2 Son: Uhhhhhh. A little help here.

No time. Gotta go.

#2: No. Really.

Faildog has a muzzle full of blood, and it is dripping on the kitchen floor.

What the hell.

#2: He was running with his leash in his mouth. And he ran out of leash before he stopped running.

Faildog: HI! wag wag wag. drip drip drip.

GET A TOWEL and get him in the car. EVERYBODY GET IN THE CAR

We all head for the garage, and while we are getting settled, I put my half can of diet coke and a paperback on the roof of the car.

I travel almost everywhere with a soda. So shoot me. If it were a cigarette, I’d be a chain smoker. Diet Coke is cheaper, even if it is rotting everything but my lungs.

And the paperback is a hit and miss thing. I do not read as much as I used to. But this month, I am one of many judges for the RWA RITA contest. I have 8 novels to read, whether I like it or not.

Now, I am driving. There are a pair of thumps, which I ignore.

#2 Son: Your book!

#1 Son: It fell off the roof. Soda, too.

Me: Huh?
(The only book I care about is on the computer at home, half done. It could not possibly be on the roof)

Faildog: Car ride! wag wag wag. drip……drip (shaggy head, swinging in and out of peripheral vision)

Excellent. The bleeding is slowing. Once I figure out what they are talking about, I decide the book can wait. We live on the road less traveled. On a Saturday morning, there is a risk of it being run over by a milk truck. But repeat collisions are unlikely.

On a scoring system of 1 to 9, the book was not doing well. If I don’t find it, I will give it a mercy 5. If I do find it, it is not going to be so lucky.

I send #1 Son fishing in my purse for a cell phone, and we call the vet, in transit, and give DH an update that we are in route with a trauma patient.

Faildog: Not trauma. I got a boo boo.

Not taking chances.
I keep driving.
Drop #1 Son at his car.
Tell DH to drive slowly on the way home, and be on the look out for a paperback in a snowbank (which unfortunately, he found). The empty soda can will wait until spring.
Go to the vet with a dog that is now, smelly, and wiggly, and perfectly healthy.

Vet: (holding open mouth)

Faildog: I god a cud on ma tug. wag wag wag.

Vet: (pointing to small red spot on tongue) That will be $45.

Lesson learned. To save time and stress, when driving on a Saturday morning:

Start early.
Before getting in the car:
Pour half soda down drain
Throw book and money out the window.