I'm Late For a Very Important Date!

If you came to my house this afternoon (please don't, this is just hypothetical) you might wonder why my dining room table looks like this:

Well, I'll tell you. It's because Sam spilled an entire large McDonald's cup of Sprite in the van - yes, the new van. And yes, Damon, I'm so sorry to tell you that that red book IS the prized owner's manual.It was such a mess. It spilled on the floor, inside my library bag full of books, down into the drawer under the passenger seat. Here I am in the McDonald's parking lot, taking my time wiping down the insides and outsides of 15 library books, and taking everything out of the drawer and soaking up all the pop with diaper rags and then anti-bacterial wipes to get rid of the stickiness, because I want to go on to Wal-Mart, and don't want the mess to spread. Finally I feel like I've got it all under control and turn on the car to head for Wal-Mart. It's 2:07. TWO OH SEVEN???????!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It's Thursday, and Will has early out, and I'm nowhere near home. 2:07 is about the time Will comes walking in the door. "CRAP!!!!!!!" is what came out of my mouth, and I thank God actually, because it could have been so much worse. All the way speeding home I repeatedly called home, thinking that Will would eventually make it inside. (Even though all the doors were locked, and he'd spend awhile banging on all of them, he knows the code to the garage door, or at least at the time I thought he did.) I left one message after another, using up all the time on each one, saying, "Wi-ill, it's your mo-om, pick up the pho-one. Wi-ill, are you there? It's your mo-om, pick up the pho-one..." over and over again. Sam was very confused by all of this. By the time we got home it was 20 after. Pulling in the driveway, I could tell immediately that Will was home. He had dragged the Little Tikes basketball hoop over to the key pad so he could stand on its base to reach the buttons, making it impossible for me to pull in the garage. It had obviously been moved. All the evidence pointed to the fact that Will had made it inside. I ran in and called for him, then went looking around the house. No Will. Hmmmm. I went outside - called his name some more. Still no Will. I went around the back of the house. Yep - there's his backpack, laying on the back deck. He's definitely been here. Would he go back up to the school and tell someone he's locked out of his house and no one's home? What will they think? Could he have gone to the neighor's or down the street to his friend Jack's? I didn't think anything of the fact that the answering machine was beeping at me; I'd left several messages. (Kind of embarassing ones now.) Oop. There's a message from the neighbor Mom; Will is at her house. So I went running down, baby carrier and Sam in tow. He wasn't worried. He wasn't scared. He wasn't mad. He just kept telling me it was ok everytime I apologized and hugged him, which was a lot. I felt awful. I still do. Plus, I never made it to Wal-Mart. :=)

So, the new plan is to go to the neighbor's house if mom isn't home. Hopefully that won't happen again, but never say never.

(In all fairness, it wasn't Sam's fault. I made him carry my drink to the car. Will was my picture taker for these pictures. He needed something to do besides fight with his brother.)