Poop. Poop. Poop. Apple Core!

This is a week of “lasts” over here.

First, HD had his last JV game of the season.  They lost, which was an epic bummer, but the game was extremely exciting.  They were down by over 20 and then started to come back.  HD was definitely a key player in the comeback and scored many points and had several assists.  It was all very exciting.  This is him, my tiny baby boy, maneuvering through big high school boys to score a layup.

And it swells our hearts with pride, yes?

Next up for the week of “lasts”-

Kate’s Senior Night.

It is a tradition for her basketball team to honor the seniors at one of the final home games.  And can we believe Taylor has a senior?

No.  No, we cannot.

But believe it we must, for it is happening.

In the spirit of The Rona and all things 2020/2021, the team they were supposed to be playing forgot to show up.  Because they forgot they had a game.

And so there was no big game for the big senior night.  But really?  Are we surprised?  The Rona can mess with us all in mysterious ways.

We were all geared up for the big game, what with flowers and balloons.  And even a very nice sign.

The coach did something super fun and special-he had the seniors suit up in white and all other players in blue and the seniors played the non seniors.  Which was excellent for us, because we had a player on each side!  Kate with the seniors and Hadley with the non seniors.  So every time someone scored, we could cheer.  We could be winners either way!  Or losers either way!

Here is a shot of Hadley shooting free throws and Kate right behind her.

It has been fun seeing them on the court together this year.

***

I am frustrated with my teens.  For the purposes of this post, I will lump all four of my kids as “teens” and not identify any specific teen for you.  And even though LD is 12 1/2, and not officially a “teen”, we shall call him a “teen” because he is taller than everyone anyways and brings us just as much angst.

First off, these teen people feel they should only do a chore if they are specifically told to.  In writing.  No one can think to do a chore on their own.

It must be assigned.  And with each assignment, there must be a discussion of fairness and possible over-work-ed-ness.  And comparisons for which poor child had to wash dishes last time and no fair and why should this poor child be assigned this dreadful chore. Bleeding hearts of the world, unite.

Wednesday.

On Wednesday, I had a 7am meeting, so I had to leave by 6am.  I got teens up.  I packed teen lunches.  I made LD breakfast because if he is not given breakfast, he stares at the pantry for five minutes and then decides it is too much work to eat.  And that just bugs me, man.

We still do not have a dishwasher, so we are on a handwashing regime over here.  I did dishes earlier that morning, but there were a few left from breakfast and whatnot, so I left them soaking in the sink, certain that a teen would wash them.

And then I went to work.

At work, I was molding and shaping young minds, which is always fun, and we were working on adding three numbers.  This can be mind blowing for first graders.  One might be surprised.  They like to just add two numbers and forget all about the third number.  It is a wonder.

So, I had them rolling one dice three times to come up with three numbers to add and they were showing me their work through the Zoom world and I noticed some of my higher kids looked like they were about to drop dead from boredom.  Because they totally know how to add 4+3+2.  So I had an idea!  And I needed another dice!

So I asked my kids to hang on a second, and I put down my headset and quickly hustled over to get a second dice.  And then I forgot about the extension cord I had to step over and I totally fell.  Like smack on the ground.  On my left side.  Where my left knee is located.

Yes.  The knee that gives me fits and tantrums.  The knee that makes me feel like I am 83 years old.  The knee that has had seven surgeries.

Reader.  The same knee.

My team teachers are trying to continue to teach live while wondering what on earth has happened to me.  I get up and get back to my seat and continue to teach.  And I am happy to report that the high kids were satisfied and were adding two dice together for each number and feeling much more challenged.  So it was probably worth it.  They will probably go on to win a Nobel prize or something because I had that idea.

And as I was sitting there, my knee started to throb and burn and swell a bit and it was unfortunate.  So I left work to head home to ice and rest.

A teen was home.  This teen was kind and tried to set up the ice machine for me and then told me to text if I needed anything and went downstairs.

The ice machine was not working and no relief of cold ice was comforting my knee.  So I texted this teen.

Thrice.

And called.

And teen did not appear for an hour and a half.

So, I had to hobble to the kitchen to get ice gel packs and noticed that there was water on the floor by the sink.  And then I noticed that the same dishes I left soaking at 6am were still in the sink.

But, Reader.  Our sink has a crack in it.  You may ask:  Taylor?!  Why does your sink have a crack in it?

I know not, but I blame the children.

So, because I had failed to specifically name ONE teen to wash the 3 bowls and 4 mugs, they sat there and the soapy water seeped through the crack all day and was now under the cabinet and on the floor in a soggy mess.

Now, more teens are home and I designate one teen to please wash the dishes and no fair and this teen has not eaten anything lately so why on earth should this teen wash a dish?  And life is so unfair and why should anyone have to clean up after the puppy because how do we know which puppy made that mess and blah blah blah.  Be jealous of my life.

Then David comes home.  He brings me food and gets working on the ice machine, but I didn’t even ask for help with the ice machine and he was so nice and worked on it for like an hour and at one point he was like siphoning out liquid from a tube and spitting it into a mug and I am not sure why he had to do that, but if that isn’t love, then I don’t know what is.  And I was asleep by 730 with ice on my burning knee.

The next day, I asked for help from the teens and I got a lot of pushback and attitude.  I went to the doctor to check on my knee and then went home to ice/prop/teach.  And I worked on all the laundry all day and dumped it on the bed for the teens to fold and put away when they got home.  And so when everyone got home, I sat in my bed, all propped up like a princess, while teens folded and vacuumed and swept and I was living my best life.  Minus the burning knee.

***

When I eat an apple, which I often do, I like to go out to the back deck and chuck the apple core into the cow pen.  Because cows and horses enjoy apples, didn’t you know?

The other day, I ate an apple and David was in the path of the deck so I asked him to please take the apple core and chuck it to my bovine friends.  And he looked at me like I was crazy and walked the apple core all the way over to the compost bucket instead.

Me:  No, David!

David:  Why?

Reader. I always give the cows my apple cores!  Even if I eat an apple in my lunch at work, I save the core to give to my friends when I get home. And what else do they have to look forward to in life?  All they do is walk and eat and poop.  That’s it.

So, I like to imagine one of my cow friends is out in the field searching for spare patch of grass that everyone else has missed.  And she is smelling and sniffing and she is like:

“Poop.  Poop.  Poop.  APPLE CORE!”

And I like to think it adds a bit of joy to their lives.

Happy Friday!