The Great Kid Race

Feast or famine. That seems to be the way things usually work out these days. And, of course, today was no different. I was offsite working on an issue and in an attempt to "do the right thing", I made an appearance back at the office at damn near 4:30. I should have just gone then and picked up the spawn at the Y. I knew I should have. But, I always think I'm freakin' Superman and can always fit in just one more thing. It damn near came back and bit me in the ass today because of course, someone called and said they were coming over to discuss building plans, and of course, I got three phone calls, and of course people stopped by my desk to talk, and of course...well, you get the idea.

I normally pick up spawn around 5:15. I didn't even leave work today until 5:20. It's at least 30 minutes with no traffic. And, of course, today traffic seemed to be going backwards. At one point, the traffic got so damn bad I was going a mere 5mph.

So, at this point I'm thinking there's no way I'll ever make it there before 6pm, which in aftercare speak translates into "happy hour has begun". So, I "get on the horn" as my dad used to say, pick up the phone and call the Mrs. She's at her parent's house, which is a lot closer than I am. She said she's just leaving so I tell her the situation and she says, "Of course, dear, anything for you!" (Well, ok, maybe it didn't quite come that way, but that was the gist of it...honest!)

I relax a bit, knowing she's on the case. About 5 minutes later, for no apparent reason, traffic starts moving and within mere seconds, I'm up to a comfortable cruising speed of 70mph. This is great...but I wait to call the Mrs. back because I know this is too good to be true.

But, I was wrong. So I called her, and ask where she is. It turns out, I've passed her and now I'm in the lead to get the kid. So, off I go. I cross the finish line with about 30 seconds to spare. The aftercare workers were packing up and ready to head out for other 3-martini playdates, I suspect.

Just another day in the life.

Now we're home and the wife is serving me what she claims is soup. It was previously frozen in an I-just-sunk-the-Titanic looking soup iceberg, but she she says it will be good. We'll see. Anyway, gotta run. Soup's on.

-la

Update: The soup turned out to be pretty damn tasty. She even had rolls and honey to go with it.