lest you think we're perfect....

... I thought I'd follow up the last post with something from "the other shoe drops" files.

After our perfect day of serendipity, yesterday, Daddy went back to work and Joe-Henry was stuck with just me. He was worn out from the day before, and he woke up tooooooo early (6:15), and he's growing so fast I can watch it happen. So what could this possibly mean, you ask?

He was capital C Cranky yesterday. He was lonesome, and there was no one to play with (I offered my services, but squirtgun fights with mom just weren't in the cards). He even got tired of Jeopardy! after the first two games. We called the two friends he wanted to play with, neither were available, we knocked on the door of two neighbor kids, no one was home. I wound up taking him to the Children's Museum, which usually does the trick. But did it do the trick yesterday? No siree, it did not. Even the Max ride there wasn't the hour long gleeful stop-announcement-and-door-fest it normally is. It was just a stand-up-the- whole-way-because-it's-the-Rose-Festival-week-and-all-the-drunks-are-headed-to-the-waterfront-and-it's-hot-and-sticky- and-smelly-and-"DON'T-TOUCH-MY-SON'S-HEAD-AGAIN...PLEASE" (ever the Lutheran)-ride AND it was longer because there were so many people on the train.

He was in tears when we got home. He wanted a popsicle, but it was too close to dinner time and he was low blood sugar hungry. And he was lonesome. I felt horrible for him. And a bit cranky myself by this time, because whining in my ears for hours on end can get to a girl.

Finally I managed to get him to eat some dinner, and there he was. My son. My cheerful son. He was still a little lonesome, but not the morbidly sad child of twenty minutes before. Then when Daddy got home, he got to play some ball, then the neighbor kid finally came out and they all played for about a half hour. A half hour past bathtime (aren't I a good mom?!) They played hard, and life was good again.

There's school today, which he loves because he's only six, and thunder in the distance, and black, black clouds, and I'm hopeful that the coming storm will wash away the remains of that sticky, icky day.