Ooh. Lah di Dah! Two parents attempting to relax a little bit. I know. The controversial luxuriousness is enough to make you want to judge the shit out of me. That's alright. I understand.
Anyway, here's a quick instructional piece for those of you who might not know what a ninja does on his or her day off.
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Wake up super early and fumble around in the kitchen until you have two full lunchboxes.
Throw toast in the general direction of the children, and feign interest in Yo Gabba Gabba.
Find pants.
Apply pants to ass.
Repeat x2, until everyone is wearing pants.
Find shirts, perform sniff test, and apply to torsos.
Reapply any shirts you find thrown on the floor while you brushed your teeth.
Try to quell rage as somebody smears toothpaste on you and somebody else jumps on the bed.
Assemble children, bags and shoes in that order.
Usher everyone to the car. Make sure to carry everything.
Hurry before one of the sippy cups rotates itself upside down and drenches your back and the contents of the bag.
Argue with Wonderboy over which way he should face in his car seat.
Beg Hurrikane to stop flailing so you can buckle the straps.
Execute a swift kindy dropoff. Hugs, high fives and kisses.
Run. Just run.
Drive back home.
Change out of toothpaste smeared attire, and reapply something else.
Attempt to look presentable.
Add dirty clothes to Mt Washmore.
Swear about Mt Washmore.
Prepare coffee.
Smear makeup on and around face.
Walk near some perfume and think about having some breakfast- but don't actually do that stuff. No time.
Find the coffee you made and forgot to drink. Pour that shit down the sink.
Almost lock yourself out of the house without your keys.
Drive to local shopping centre and attempt to find a park.
Drive around for 20 minutes and give up, realizing there actually are no parks.
No shit. No parks. Stupid Christmas eve-eve.
Pull over to enjoy watching the temperature gauge in your car falling from the HOT zone.
Have a quick sauna waiting for the car to cool down.
Start driving again.
Decide to live dangerously and get yourself a fancy drive-thru iced coffee.
Overheat again on the way back from getting said iced coffee.
Drink your iced coffee free of regret. It was worth it.
Pull over 3 times on the way home.
Swear a little bit.
Drink some more coffee.
Arrive at home, dump 2L of water into the........ place you put the water in a car. *cough*
Agonize over whether or not to bail out on appointment to inspect a new rental property on the grounds of shitbox car struggles.
No! Decide to power through. Your middle name is danger.
Think about breakfast again. But don't do it.
Bravely leave the house again and head in the general direction of your appointment location. (30mins away).
Overheat within 3 minutes.
Pull over and call the cavalry.
Finish that coffee and update your FB status. Why not?
Be escorted to the safe zone by the cavalry, riding his mighty steed. (er, DaddyO, his workplace, and work van)
Overheat some more but just make it to the safe zone without pulling over.
Join DaddyO on his mighty steed on a delivery driving adventure. Not exactly what I had planned, but Okay!
(Yes, DaddyO is working on his day off. Because that's how HE takes a day off, apparently. Lucky man he is.)
Complete our annoying mission of stopping at the butcher to pick up meat for elderly co-worker who can't take a hint.
Feel guilty for not feeling very Christmassy.
Arrive back to the safe zone and fill the radiator of the shitbox with water.
Alright it's not a shitbox, but I'm really irritated right now so let's not get all technical and dissect my choice of terminology.
Summon your courage to get back in the car and face the highway again.
Realize you don't know who you're praying to.
Drive all the way home without any more problems, and thinking about breakfast, still.
Arrive home and dress in your least decent attire.
Drink a litre of water and collapse on the couch.
Write a ranty, whiny blog post outlining the shithouse day you're having.
Feel slightly better.
Re-strategize the afternoon and think some more about a meal.
Realize there's no actual food here, and add food shopping to your afternoon strategy.
Decide to attempt a power nap until DaddyO gets home from performing his elderly co-worker home-droppage daily taxi service.
Feel smug and sarcastic.........................................................
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The moral of the story?
Ninjas don't do days off. You may find you're actually a ninja too, after reading this easy to follow guide. Do you rise above the general annoyance that is summer, tourists, the Christmas rush and crazy car problems with style and pizazz? Do you manage not to karate chop anyone in sheer frustration?
If you answered yes to any of these questions- you're probably pretty badass. You're also allowed to swear and stuff whilst awesomely overcoming adversity. I know I do.
Hey, I'm not a fricken wax model of motherly perfection. I'm a ninja.
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