In the Doghouse 1

I am human.

I forget things.

I make mistakes.

For these reasons I am writing this blog from the doghouse.

Every summer my children’s sweet grandparents have a tradition to take their grandkids out for a special activity. Since they have lots of grandkids, they go in groups of 2-3 according to age and interests. They camp, go four-wheeling, to a sports event or play, etc.

On Saturday it was my two teenage daughters’ turn to go. Grandma and Grandpa were taking them shopping, out to lunch, and to a play—a triple decker treat. It’s been on the calendar for months. Tickets were bought. Reservations were made. Excitement was built.

Then earlier in the week, my sister called and invited Ivy to go camping with their family for the weekend. They have a daughter the same age and she and Ivy are tight. Ivy is my kid who’s had the least to do this summer because all her friends live far enough away to make it hard to get together very often, and while she is the best of my children at using her summer free time in worthwhile ways like photography, drawing, or practicing her instruments, I worry about how little social interaction she gets.

She has hermit tendencies like her father.

So when the camping with cousins invite came I got all excited for Ivy, too excited apparently, because I accepted, packed her up, and sent her off without checking the calendar to see if there was already something planned, which there rarely is for Ivy, which is why I didn’t remember, which is why I’m writing from the doghouse.

I remembered at 11:30 p.m. on Friday night that Grandma and Grandpa would be on my doorstep at 10:30 a.m. the next morning expecting to pick up Madi AND Ivy for their special activity day.

Crapola.

Ivy was 2 1/2 hours away.

What should I do?

Get in the car right then and drive all night to go get her?

Get up the next morning uber-early to go get her?

Get a big bowl of ice cream and sit on the couch to watch the Olympics hoping you’ll be forgiven because everyone makes mistakes?

I did the last one.

Moral of the story: Never eat ice cream late at night because it will give you an upset in-law.

One comment on “In the Doghouse

  1. Reply Tiffany Harding Aug 20,2012 12:27 am

    Good choice. I’d have chosen ice cream and Olympics, too!

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