After reading the title of this post, are you hearing the song in your head? Or does the George Clooney/Michelle Pfeiffer movie of one thousand years ago come to mind?
Well, today, I had myself One F-I-N-E Day.
I know, right?
It's about time, RIGHT?
You want all the gorey details, RIGHT?
Hold on, Ima gonna tell 'em to ya.
Today started out pretty swell from the get go.
Today was my morning to sleep in, as Two Swords and I trade off on morning kid duty.
Two Swords came into the bedroom around 830 to let me know that he was headed off on his adventure for the day. I saw what time it was, and decided, yeah, I guess I'll get up.
I had no firm plans, really. Not until 3:30, when my daily chaos usually starts.
But I grabbed some coffee, and had a bowl of frosted flakes, and spent a few minutes with my friends at Fox and FRIENDS.
And then I decided that I had the energy and motivation and solitude to perhaps get my taxes finished today, AND get control of the always-present, never-ending, I-really-do-hate-it-as-much-as-you-do-honey, MOUNTAIN of paperwork that resides in a laundry basket and irks my husband quite possibly more than anything else that I do. No. EVERYTHING that I do irks him, but yeah, he hates the traveling paper basket.
So, anyhoo, that was my P.L.A.N.
Auntie Em, aka Mermaidelicious, phoned me at oh, approximately 5 minutes after I had made this bold, grand decision in between bites of frosted flakes, and asked if I could give her a ride to drop her car off for service, and then give her a ride later in the day to return to pick up her car.
Well, duh, of course I said, "Sure!", without a moment's thought.
So, I finished the flakes, turned off my Friends at Fox, got dressed, yada yada yada.
And then, and ONLY then did my ONE FINE DAY begin!
I got into my Funk Master Flex (aka 2008 Ford Expedition that is s.w.e.e.t., but is so decked out and funky and customized with the FMF logo
No, I was not under the influence of any 'drugs'.
Yes, I was fully awake, having already consumed my coffee.
No, I wasn't in a hurry or distracted, or any crap like that.
I just seriously messed up.
I backed diagonally into Two Swords' pickup truck.
Yeah, that's what I said.
I got out of the car to assess the damage.
AMAZINGLY, it was not catastrophic. Since when does THAT happen in my life? That when 'shit happens', it's NOT catastrophic?
I know, RIGHT?
My rear right tailight needs to be replaced.
Okay, I thought. Not so bad.
And a couple of very minor cosmetic scratches for which we already have the black paint because the Funk Master Flex which is now an entirely most awesome black Expedition was once....ROJO. Again, it was a bargain, and we didn't know it was a customized rapper car!
Moved onto Two Swords nearly ancient, but most certainly dearly loved pickup truck.
The one that I was 'forced' (although I can't even confirm this myself, because I can't remember why I was 'forced', it was so darn long ago, I think I only had one kid) to drive his monstrous pickup truck to my workjob one day, into the scary parking garage, of which on the way OUT, I hit not just ONE yellow concrete ballard on the left side, but ANOTHER yellow concrete ballard on the right side, and bawled all the way home (and we all know what I weeper I can be) about how horribly I felt regarding the maiming of his dearly beloved West Virginia Mountaineer-Blue colored Chevy Silverado with the towing package. The only glimmer of hope I remember from that day was that both sides now had yellow, ahem, 'racing' stripes, so he truly had a WVU truck. Sigh.
But I digress.
That was many, many moons and a whole kid ago. His beloved truck is still his beloved truck, but it's not as purty as it was the day I customized it with the yellow stripes.
I found where I hit it, TODAY.
And now, underneath some white 'stripes' where he, on some other ONE FINE DAY, hit something 'white', he now has some 'red' stripes, from my, um, 'black' car that used to be 'red'.
So, I'm not crying this time, cuz, it's been many moons and many years, and a whole other kid since I've wrecked any vehicles and I simply phoned him and told him what happened.
I thought he was going to FREAK about his truck.
But he did NOT! He said he didn't AND I QUOTE 'give a DAMN about my truck'. He was most concerned with our 'black on red' Funk Master. He lectured me that the tailight was going to cost a fortune. I said I was sorry, that I don't usually have auto altercations, or get speeding tickets, or flip golf carts, or wreck boats, 'AHEM'. And I said I just wasn't paying attention, and I made a mistake, and again, I was sorry. I could tell by the sound of his voice he was P I S S E D.
Oh well. The damage had literally been done.
Off to Auntie Em's.
Pick her up at the auto place, and then drop her off at home, and make plans for picking her up later when her car is finished being serviced.
For some ODD reason, I felt like I needed another coffee. I don't normally drink coffee every single day, and I very rarely drink more than one. But I had the second one.
And then the phone rang.
(yeah, this is NOT going to be good, because even the bill collectors don't call me 'Mrs. Fallon')
Hi, this is Nurse So and So from Such and Such Elementary School and I have Jake here and .......
Is he sick?
No, he's not sick, but he has a busted up eye and he'll probably have a nice shiner out of it and he had some dirt and gravel in it and I've cleaned it and bandaged it but he seems pretty miserable....
And in the background, I hear a very loud, very familiar troll of a voice say, "YOU TELL HER TO GET IN THE CAR AND COME AND GET ME R-I-G-H-T NOW!"
And then I make the mistake of asking to speak with him.
All I got out of his rambling was that he was going to have a black eye and he had to come home because it was nap time at school and the side of his face with the injury is the side of his face that he 'lays' on and it would not be AND I QUOTE 'possible' for him to nap 'comfortably' as a result of this near-fatal injury, and I needed to get in the car 'RIGHT NOW' and drive really fast to pick him up but AND I QUOTE, and yeah, this has to be the funniest part of the whole day:
"DON'T WRECK YOUR CAR OR ANYTHING OR DRIVE TOO FAST AND GET PULLED OVER BY THE PO-PO, JUST GET HERE SAFE, OKAY?"
I have no idea how much a taillight is going to cost to fix the Flex.
My husband is irked at me.
My kid has an eye injury that I have yet to personally examine.
And I am laughing so hard, I nearly lose control of my bowels.
Don't wreck your car or anything?
I already did that today!
So, I get into the Black/Red Flex, and do NOT strike anything upon leaving my driveway THIS TIME, and phone Two Swords to tell him that I wasn't sure if the Sparrow was going to need medical attention or not, and though he is concerned about the 'boy', he's getting tired of hearing from me TODAY. I typically don't phone him every 3.5 minutes, but then again, today was ONE FINE DAY.
I arrive at So and So Elementary School.
He is sitting right there.
Two bandages, splayed over his right eye, like the letter 'a'.
I can see swelling, I can see raspberry, I can see the beginnings of a shiner.
I can't see any reason why he couldn't stay in school for three more hours, but oh well.
I check him out of school, and we get in the car, and I ask him for the 'story'.
And he says (very, deep, breath), "Listen. Ima gonna tell you just like when I walked into the Nurse's office and there were like eighteen kids in there and they all looked at my big bleeding eye and started to freak out, well, Ima gonna tell you the same thing I told them. DON'T ASK!"
Wrecked my car.
Wrecked my husband's car.
Kid has a busted eye.
I know eventually I'll hear the whole story, ad infinitum, so I enjoy a moment of peace and don't badger him.
Then, he slaps his OTHER eye, and says, "OH CRAP!"
And I said, "What's wrong NOW?"
And he said, "I have baseball tryouts TONIGHT!"
"All I'm sayin' is that if anybody asked me what happened to my eye, Ima gonna tell 'em, Don't EVEN Ask Me!"
A half mile later, I am informed by the One-Eyed Sparrow that he will not be able to attend school for a few WEEKS. HA!
And the laughter goes on and on, on this One Fine Day.
"Um, why can't you go to school for WEEKS?"
"Because! I don't want to have to say, "DON'T EVEN ASK ME!" all FREAKING day long, and remember, when I had my HEART ATTACK and I had to wear that HEART MACHINE to school all day and everybody was talking about it and asking me about it and.....UGH. Just please, I don't want to have to go through all THAT again, Mom. UGH."
I cannot discern which is funnier. That this kid really and truly believes he had a HEART ATTACK, or that he's talking like an 85 year old man from Brooklyn who is being very specific about how he wants his bagel with a SCHMEAR.
FINALLY, we arrive at Casa de Chaos.
I get 'Ole One Eye an Ice Pack and some Tylenol.
He said, "No."
And, confused, which, why should I ever be confused, since it's the Sparrow, and I should know better to be confused, because he will give me the directions and the map and the GPS through each and every story....
I say, "No, what?"
"No, I'm not taking no Tylenol."
"Ummmm, I always give you Tylenol when you are in pain or you have a fever, and it has never been a problem before, so why is it all of a sudden a problem now?"
NOTE TO PEOPLE WHO HAVE NEVER MET ME NOR THE SPARROW IN PERSON:
I swear to you, on all that is holy, that these are the exact, word for word conversations that adults have with my son. This is how he talks, and this is how we talk back. Honest, honest, honest. There is no exaggeration when it comes to the Sparrow, simply because, well, he needs NO exaggeration. He is the enigma that is Captain Jake Sparrow.
As I was saying....blah blah blah what's your problem NOW, Slappy?
"If I ever have a fever, you must, you simply MUST give me Children's ADVENT (yes, ADVENT, not ADVIL) and not Tylenol."
"Um, first of all, you don't have a fever, and um, where ya getting that from, Jake?"
"Cartoon Network. And they wouldn't lie Mom, cuz if they did, then you and Daddy would say it was an inappropriate channel and you wouldn't let me watch it anymore."
Am I debating the merits of Ibuprofen versus Acetaminophen with my thirty-eight pound six year old who gets on a skateboard on his stomach whilst said skateboard is attached to a dog by a bungee cord who is then thrown a tennis ball and said six year old rides all over hell and Georgia while the dog tows him on the board? Seriously?
Am I still talking to this six year old mutant who claims he is a redneck simply because, "I'm a strange kid, Mom, and that's what rednecks are. They're strange."
I struggled through Level Four Experimental Statistical Processes for Psychoanalytic Theories for THIS?
And I shifted into fifth gear and said, "Jake. You seem to forget that you refuse to take LIQUID medications and will only swallow pills and as far as I know (yeah, now I'm lying), Children's ADVIL is only sold in a bottle. No pills. So what's it gonna be, buddy?"
A defeated sparrow says, "Ugh. Gimme the dang pill."
He takes the dang pill.
He follows the rest of my instructions to a 'tee'.
He is resting comfortably in MY bed, with an ice pack on his eye, watching the 'new' Leave It To Beaver movie which surprisingly, co-stars the Original Eddie Haskell as the dad of Eddie Haskell. Don't know how that's relevant, but then again, do I ever have anything relevant to report?
I hop onto Ebay to see if I can locate a taillight for my Funk Master.
It is indeed One Fine Day after all!
So cheap it makes me want to go out and smack the other tail light!
KIDDING, Two Swords, KIDDING!
Two hours later, we leave to pick up the Genius from music lessons.
She had been told that her brother was 'sick' and that her Mom would be picking her up after practice, at 4 pm.
She gets in the car, asks me, "How is Jake S I C K? He was F I N E this morning."
And I tell Jake to look at his sister.
And Reilly the Red SCREAMS, "OMG! What happened to your EYE?"
And, to nearly finish off this ONE FINE DAY, 'Ole One Eye replies:
"DON'T EVEN ASK ME!"
Fast forward to now, 730 pm.
Three of the pirates are at baseball tryouts.
One Eye is going to live, AND he is going to school tomorrow.
The Genius got her report card.
She's beyond genius.
She's so far beyond genius, that she gets TWO report cards.
And I just went through her bookbag and discovered that she was named Musician of the Week.
I didn't even know there was such a thing!
AND....she is Terrific Kid again.
She was just named Terrific Kid like three weeks ago!
You usually don't get to be Terrific Kid more than once a year!
(The Sparrow still has his fingers crossed, if you know what I mean).
We picked up Auntie Em to get her car, and then we got a dozen donuts.
Because of the "Don't ASK!" Eye Injury, for which I'm still fuzzy on the details, but pretty sure it didn't involve physical violence.
Because of the Genius Musician and her Genius Report Cards.
And because Mama wrecked not one, but TWO of our vehicles today.
Because the taillight for the Flex only costs FORTY FIVE BUCKS!
It was ONE FINE DAY.
And because I didn't have a nervous breakdown.
Even though, if I had, someone would have thought to bring me a dozen donuts.