So yesterday I left the office, picked up Bob, and prepared for the worst. We hit Taco Bell on our way home and had a dinner db would have given us utter hell for--tacos, tacos, tacos. Then we saddled up and rode our bikes to the park, which was otherwise empty. We played tag. We played Roll Around On The Ground. We played on the swings. Then we played on the bouncy things--you know, the big hunks of metal shaped like some animal or something, stuck on a giant spring that's stuck in the ground? Who came up with this shit, anyway? Did they not realize this contraption is a lawsuit waiting to happen? Have they never seen a kid like mine, who bounces with such vigor you wonder just how much crack he smoked before he got to the park? A kid who isn't just content to wobble back and forth, but has to rock with such force you half expect the spring is going to uproot itself and your child is going to hurl himself across town?

Well, sure enough, he let go just long enough to lose his balance and his face met with the metal antennae of the worm he was riding (and since when do worms have antennae?). For a minute, I was afraid a glass eye was in our futures, but it just conked him good and hard under his eye. He cried for about 30 seconds and then it was over. I told him we should go ahead and ride home and get some ice or something on it. Once we were home and he got a good look at it, he thought it was the coolest thing he's ever seen. Especially once I put a band-aid on it. He has since borne a striking resemblance to Nelly.

Anyhoo...

The GAL made her mandatory home visit this morning. She's definitely in our corner, and that's good news. She did tell me that withholding phone calls from db jacked me up the last time we were in court, and not to let it jack me up this time. So I guess tonight I'll have to let the fucker talk to Bob.

This weekend feels backwards. Since our morning was thrown off, and it's still too cold today to really do much, we went to McDonald's for lunch and then to the $2 theater to see "Charlotte's Web." And now it's only 4:00 but it feels like it might as well be midnight. I feel like I should be doing something, but I can't for the life of me think of what that might be...

Tomorrow--we're going to the zoo. It's supposed to be 68 degrees and sunny, and goddammit, I haven't seen the sea lions in a very long time (they're my favorites). I forked over $65 this morning to buy a zoo membership (since they've upped their admission prices, it'll pay for itself in 3 visits), and now Ben wants me to pay for this month's gym membership, too. Um, since when does the "M" in ATM stand for "Mitzi?"

I should go down to the basement (or up to the attic) and start sorting things for the garage sale. (The proceeds of which will go to the New Chair fund, so I can rid myself of Ben's ugly ass recliner once and for all.) I should go outside and rake, or hack down the tree that's growing under our deck. I should do laundry. I should develop a severe case of masochism and take Bob to the grocery store.

Then again, maybe I should just sit here. Yeah, that sounds like a better plan.