The last few days here in Montreal have been beautiful. And while most of me is really happy that spring has sprung, there’s a small part of me that cringes when I open the windows to let in some of that fresh air. Especially when my kids are home.
Here’s a snapshot of yesterday:
Me to Jon and Sam who were chilaxing on the couch, watching reruns of Malcolm in the Middle at 1 o’clock in the afternoon: What are you guys doing?
Me: Do you think I’m blind or just stupid? – Don’t answer that – It’s a beautiful day outside. Let’s go for a walk.
Me: Come on. Let’s go.
At which point a few profanities were said that I can’t repeat here. (In case child services decide to check into our household on account of the profanities that I can’t repeat here.)
Have you ever calculated how long it takes a couple of teenagers to get a move on when there’s nothing they would rather do than, well, nothing?
Here. Allow me.
By the time we finally got outside, I was exhausted. Also, I had lost my voice and the neighbours were politely acting busy with washing their cars and raking up their lawns. Probably so that they wouldn’t have to look me in the eyes.
Note to self: Must remember to use my indoor voice when yelling at the kids now that the nice weather has arrived.