This morning before I woke up, the Mrs HTF crept out the front door and was off for a week (which translates to 3 months in single-daddy-time) of girls camp up in the mountains. She had thoroughly prepped me for the days ahead and I was ready, by which I mean I remember her mentioning something about kids and food or something, but that was about it. Downstairs she’d left cryptic notes with phrases like “Go buy yogurt at QFC, it’s on sale” and “Free Taco night at Jack in the Box” and “The Kids shouldn’t really cook things, especially the 3 year old.” These notes were super helpful.
Luckily she’d lined up awesome babysitters, since I have this job thing that I have to do during the day. So I really just “prep” them in the morning (this refers to toaster waffles and letting the girls wear whatever they wanted including turquoise shorts with a very pink jacket and rain boots) and play with them at night. When I got home it was confirmed that my wife was gone because, to my utter shock, the clothes I left on the floor of my room this morning were STILL THERE.
Around 5 PM Ethan reminded me that The Race to Witch Mountain was out on DVD today. The conversation went pretty much like this:
10 year old: “Dad, The Race to Witch Mountain is out today, can we go rent it?”
34 year old: “Which mountain?”
10 year old: (thoroughly confused) “Witch Mountain, Dad! The Race to Witch Mountain”
34 year old: “That was my question to YOU, which mountain is it?”
10 year old: “When does mom get home?”
So after we got the whole mountain thing straightened out we jumped in the car and raced to our closest RedBox at the grocery store. (if you don’t know what these are you must start using them – referring to the RedBox, not the grocery store) When we arrived Ethan quickly discovered that the machine wasn’t working. We stood there, dumbfounded, except for Allison (3) who was trying to run over her brother with a shopping cart. Then a lady and her son came in and made the same sad discovery. I asked if they were here for the Witchy Mountain too, and she confirmed that they were. Then a store worker told us that another RedBox was just down the street. At this point the mother and I made some serious eye-contact, knowing that quantities of the movie were limited. No words were exchanged, we may even have smiled, but let’s be clear . . . It was ON. I scooped up kids and walked briskly to the van, breaking into a full sprint once the lady was out of sight. We raced down the road to the Walgreens, where the next RedBox was. (Ethan pointed out the irony of “racing” to rent the “Race to Witch Mountain” – good kid) And to my kids’ delight, WE WON, . . . except the movies were all rented out. I ran into a friend there (she was going through the same witchy mountain search) and we chatted for a sec, just as the lady from RedBox #1 pulled up. I humbly told her that the movie was gone here too. I even called a friend to do an online search for the movie, but by this time the kids were hungry and I had a mini-van revolt on my hands.
We ravenously went to the Jack In The Box for the free tacos, but to my horror, you actually needed a coupon. That was NOT on Traci’s handwritten note!! We were successful in buying cheap yogurt, but I learned that 45 yogurt containers mixed with 2 cranky kids in a shopping cart will always equal a big yogurt fight (BYF).
Anyway, the little people are sleeping now, and it was a good day in spite of our movie-saga, but I just remembered that they should probably be wearing pajamas instead of rubber boots. Oh well…