Yeah, I earned my frigging Cool Aunt Wings this weekend. Unless you are Nephew #1 (let's go with N1, and this is totally based on birth order, not preference, which will become clear shortly) who is probably a bit pissed at me. However, to be honest: he was a jerk. And, since he's only 11.75, I'm gonna do all in my power to make sure he doesn't arrive at seventh grade a complete prick. So...you know, suck it up, kiddo.
Yeah. The 4 year old and I had a delightful day, until he renigged on his promise to clean the toys up off the floor in his room for and additional 5 minutes of computer time (I could have told him that was a bad deal, but, hell, he's 4, he has no conception of minutes at this point...gotta enjoy it before he starts bargaining in half-hour blocks) and we had to have a little "stop hyperventilating about having to do what you said you'd do. I'm not mad. But you made a deal, and now you are breaking it" (his dad uses the term "deal" so I went with it. Fucking hippies. Between that and the older brother who is paying the price for "We don't say "no" to him, because it hurts his feelings" I am on fire right now as all the chickens come home to roost at once.
Ultimately Nephew #3 (again, birth order, not preference) calmed down and told me he needed help. I said, that was perfectly ok, he just needed to TELL ME that, and not scream like an injured badger. So, he asked for help, and we cleaned his room, and no tears were shed. And I got to tell him it was ok to ask for help, that I wasn't mad at him, which, for those of us going through YEARS of THERAPY; is helpful to hear WHEN YOU ARE 3. It's a real hassle when you are 43.
Ah, yeah. So there's that. Otherwise, it was awesome, we made banana bread, played robot wars, sword fight, and built legos. We watched classic Disney (because I will not abide by the ne pap Disney nonsense. Give me Pluto chasing Chip 'n Dale, or give me nothing!), and ultimately, the Germany vs. Portugal game of the first round of the Euros, in which of course N3 took Portugal as his team (I know, that Ronaldo, he's a doll), but ultimately he got bored, and his parents came home, and I showered and headed to Round #2: the Moto Boys.
Argh. I did this thing where I said I'd sit in exchange for a haircut from their mom, who used to cut my hair. I apparently forgot how half assed she is about it, not much change in style. Anyway. N1 was monoploizing the conversation, mostly about his most current (and most damaging) injury to his arm. He cut nerves this time, if he jacks up recovery, he could lose the use of half his right hand. Brilliant. I won't even go into how stupid the antics were that led to this, but will say he wasn't racing. Ultimately though, the night started well, we trolled cable looking for a movie to watch, the boys bickered a bit, I made pizza and salad from scratch (they don't get actual cooking much). We played poker (5 card draw, blackjack, and something they referred to as "indian poker") ultimately, N1 won more than N2 and I, but whatever, it's just a game, and we all had a good time. The computer beckoned, ultimately, and N2 went up to play, and N1 with his damaged arm, can't really play full speed, so he was just in there, dinking around. When I went up, he was perusing his father's yearbooks....which was odd, and...I'll detail offline. But suffice to say: probably not awesome to let your 11 year old son read your yearbook. Generally. But especially if you had a paranoid, clingy girlfriend.
Anyway, somehow, ultimately a random comment about facebook got N1 fired up and he started using his i-Touch to take crap photos of me and calling me names, and saying he would post them on facebook. So I shut the night down (we were about an hour from designated bedtime anyway) and took N2 downstairs, leaving N1 to sit in his finely appointed room (i-touch/internet/dvd player) alone. Me and N2, who immediately crowed "I've been waiting for this all night, when N1 gets in trouble" (!) and I popped some corn, watched some horrible show called i-Carley, and then used a kit he had to make bubble gum (watermelon mint, for those wondering.....) and then I put him to bed as well.
It was a long night, but I ended it with a delightful cocktail and watching my beloved Arsenal on the big (seriously big, like 72" of big) screen, as FSC replayed a champs league game from early in the season at midnight.
That's right, my brother and his wife, who were suppposed to be home "around 10" rolled in at 1a.m..
He was shocked I was still awake; and I was all: do you know what I do for a living? At all?
But I didn't say that, cause what's the point.
Anyway, and then today, show up at work at 2pm, ready to do a shitload of prep, especially desserts, and no one is at the restaurant. No one shows up until 3:30.
So angry. But it was mitigated by TMTM pulling me from pantry prep and just having me do desserts, and then when my pals Debra and Lisa came in (and they brought another friend, woot!) I sent out apps, a pizza, they bought entrees, and I sent a dessert sampler. Got to visit the table a couple of times and it was awesome. So good to have people in, I have missed that so much. The rest of the night was a mess, having the Guy Who Should Be Fired still there is annoying, but, you know, whatever. I've been through this before, so I can certainly do it again. The ladies loved their dinner, and I had a decent night. Tomorrow will be way better. TMTM is awesome, and I always look forward to working with him. I got to meet his wife last week, and she's rad, so it's nice to have the circle expand. I dunno. Just take each day as it comes, really...but so happy to like my job again - though the lack of space fucking pisses me off from a dessert perspective, but y'now, whatever, I'll adapt, it just takes time to figure out how to make the space work.
yeah. and I got to listen to Riz on the way home. Dammit, I love this town. Gun-toting freaks be damned.
