Geese, Class, and More Bedtime Antics

Anne takes the boys to their daycare every morning and because I get off work much earlier than her, I pick them up.  On the way home, every day, we pass by a field that houses a huge gaggle of geese and most days, the a few sections take off to start flying toward their nightly nesting grounds.  This is when the racing begins.  As soon as the boys see the geese take off, I must then pretend to race them home, with the constant threat that our van might be swarmed and taken over by the flying geese.  Much like the flying monkeys in Wizard of Oz.  So for the next ten miles, I must make racing noises while I shift the invisible shifter of our very automatic transmission van.  When we come to a turn, I must make skidding tire sounds as both boys yell and scream in excitement.  Its a ridiculous exercise that is now a daily routine. 

The boys in June on their way to Florida.  Just picture them with winter coats now.

As part of our daily routine, Ben asks me if I have class at night.  He is referring to my second job teaching English night classes.  When I answer yes, he celebrates.  When I tell him that I do not have class, he gets upset and pouts.  This used to hurt my feelings considerably until we found out that Ben was happy to have me gone because it meant a dinner he liked: mac and cheese, hot dogs, or grilled cheese.  When I was home, an actual meal would often be attempted and he cared little for "fancy" meals like meatloaf, chicken, or beef.  Now I feel better about myself, but Anne is hurt that he doesn't care for her meals and would rather eat junk.

Finally, the bedtime routine for Jack is unchanged.  Last night, he came down several times, once while naked and carrying his pajamas.  He also comes down and when he gets caught, immediately says, "I'm crying."  Translation: I"m already pretty upset about my mistake, don't holler at me.  This bedtime routine might be the reason for my shortened life expectancy.