Saturday morning it was hard to get up. Not because I was necessarily that tired, or that I wasn't looking forward to my weekend. It was because there were a lot of things we had to do that day, and I was too hungry to think about making breakfast. Not that I usually make breakfast on the weekends, anyway, since Robb is our head chef. But I feel guilty that he does all the cooking, so when I am home on a lazy Saturday morning, I feel like I SHOULD be the one making breakfast.
So we lounged around in bed, my hubby and the 4 kids that were home. We were just enjoying not having to be anywhere immediately, and noticing we had over an hour before we had to pick up our oldest from a little campout with her Girl Scout Troop.
I finally decided not to dilly dally any longer, and got up, hastily inquiring of the kids if they wanted eggs and sausage and rice or were they just ok with cereal. I would feel guilty if they said cereal, knowing that that's what they eat every morning during the week. I honestly don't even remember what they said, because my stomach was busy talking to me very loudly and next thing I know, I am telling my husband "I want to eat at Margie's Diner". Since money's tight, I wasn't really implying that we should all go out and eat at our favorite breakfast joint, but the thought of those potatoes and veggie omelet made me say it aloud.
Before I had the chance to even leave the bedroom to investigate how dirty the kitchen counter was, Robb tells me that I am going out to eat at Margie's Diner with my friend. "What?" I look at him quizzically, as he finishes up a text to my friend and neighbor. "She'll be ready in 5 minutes, she's driving".
It's not my birthday today, it's not even mother's day. How do I deserve to skip out on feeding the family and go enjoy a delicious meal?
My friend and I speed off, she leaving 4 kids at home as well, and her other was also at the Girl Scout campout with Kawai. I tried not to harbor any guilt as I thought about what I was leaving behind. The baby was getting cranky, meaning time for him to fall back asleep, so how was he going to manage cooking breakfast while getting the baby down, and our oldest helper being gone from the house (darn those campouts! They interfere with child labor!)
I returned from my delicious meal to an empty house, and checked in with the family who were no where to be seen. After cooking a good breakfast for the kids while the baby sat patiently in the high chair, Robb had picked up the 2 girls from the campout and headed straight for our church where we were signed up to clean the chapel before sunday services. Somehow he managed to do his part and then some, getting the cleaning done along with the other families that were helping.
They arrived home after I had folded a pile of laundry. The first words out of my little 3 year old's mouth were "Mom, it was awesomes! We got to wipe the floor".
All I can say is, thank you honey, you are the greatest. What would I do without you? I have no idea! What would you do without me? Apparently a lot!
1 comment:
I love your last comment! and what a sweet husband
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