Here's the scene: Saturday morning. One kiddo slept over at a friend's house last night. The other kiddo brought two of her friends to spend the night. All of said friends live in the old hometown, 25 miles away. Husband volunteers to pick up the boy later since he's driving that way anyway. Girls are going to stay here and play most of the day. Wife has cooked breakfast for everyone, brought glasses of ice water to their chairs, handed out extra napkins, handed out more eggs, cut the crust off more toast, and started cleaning up the crumbs. You know, all the stuff a mom does because she's the go-to person when someone needs help with something. Husband says, in all seriousness, "So, Bunny, what are you going to do today?"
So, he wondered why I had to give him a smartass remark to that question. In all fairness, while I'm standing here still half dressed in a crazy hybrid of pajamas and yesterday's jeans, I think to myself, "Well, maybe he was just trying to be nice and actually pay attention to me, and look at how I grouched at him in response." Hmmmmm. So, I help get a blanket for the sidewalk, a piece of cardboard for a painting surface, dig out pieces of craft wood shapes that each kiddo can paint, pick out paintbrushes, pour out paints and talk about the colors, watch the paintings being created, come inside for a few minutes to check my email, go back outside to discover the girls have progressed to splatter painting, explain who Jackson Pollack is, come inside to google Pollack so they can see some pictures, clean paint off hands, pick up paint before cat walks through it, and still I'm thinking about the difference between mom-ability and dad-ability. Another mom wouldn't have asked "What are you going to do today?" She would've asked something along the lines of "What are the girls going to do today?" or said something like "I'm sure they're going to have fun!" Another mom would know that it's fun having a house full of kids doing things, but the to-do lists don't really belong in the day's scenario.
Hmmm, I think again. And that is when I decide for sure. Mars, hell. . . this man has to be from another freaking galaxy. Either that, or some wicked smartass higher power plucked me from a galaxy far away, plopped me down on Venus, and gleefully sat back with the higher power equivalent of a big bowl of popcorn in anticipation of a really funny movie being played out when I got matched up with this being from Mars! Ha. Ha. Hee. Hee. Well, I gotta say I guess it is kinda funny when you think about it!
P.S. You should see some of the splatter paintings drying on the counter right now! They used jewel tone greens, blues, and purples, plus a dash of bright golden orange. . .it's a very pretty peacock feather palette of splatters!