ROBIEWANKENOBIE

i'm all about serving my fellow parents. and thus? i present bad mommy theatre, in which i am one of THOSE people.

my normally most perfect the leon undid weeks of training in two short days this weekend. morning nap? nah. all the fun kidtv is in the morning. don't want to miss that. say, let's move the nap to...1:30? which is all swell and good. well, except for those other five days a week. you know, where you have to pick that old kid up from school at two. no biggie. as the ne points out, it's a pretty impressive trick. it can take weeks to train a kid to do something. yet, the leon? two short days. he should have his own infomercial.

so. the story begins with a sleep deprived kid. always a treat at the optometrist office. within two short seconds i'm having to put them in time-outs. you know. to prevent them from running around like maniacs. the youngest? doing the bouncing on his feet, stuck out tongue, drumming on his head crazy dance...then diving under the chairs. meanwhile, i'm pulling the elder from the teevee area. not that i don't think he could learn a few tips from dr. phill's stalker show. i just think he's had enough learning for one day, y'know? don't want to tax his young eye.

about 20 minutes of wrangling later? *sigh* i get to juggle between looking in machines and keeping chairs from tipping over. and then getting the eldest to look in those same machines without wriggling himself off of the stool.

did i mention that the leon had called to tell me that he would have to meet me at work because he had to finish a project? yeah. in a semi-brilliant moment, i had already changed into my work clothes, so this wasn't as bad as it could have been. you know. if everything worked out timewise with the exams. subtle foreshadowing, don't you think?

10 minutes later (or was it two hours. it felt like two hours. heck, it felt like two weeks) we get called into the little room where we are all trapped, uh, contained, uh...prisoners of the crazy? something like that. my optometrist guy remembers me from two years ago. that's pretty endearing, isn't it? i mean this is one of those chain joints. he's cute, too. looks like that doctor science, guy. what was his name? i dunno. at any rate, no new glasses. they've changed a little, but not much. ah, and no one blew up the room. bonus.

then the kid.

who can't answer any of the questions about the letters. even with his "spy kids" glasses (those crazy things they used before the fancy machines). numbers? hey! he can do numbers. but only in spanish. luckily? the dude? bilingual. he didn't skip a beat. it was totally amusing.

the youngest, of course, is starting to climb the walls. we go outside. then i realize that i've left the eldest in a small room with a complete stranger. eeew. so, back in i go with the wall climber. who is now being SUPER helpful. since eldest is having trouble with a few of the questions, he decides to tell his brother all of the answers. awesome.

and then the ordeal is over.

i'm getting the lo-down on my eye pressure (better) and the state of the eldest (may get to play pirate next year if his lazyish eye doesn't shape up. that's just how he rolls.) when (insert drum roll) youngest climbs up into the chair and eldest shoves him off with his foot. onto the industrial carpet covered concrete floor. poor little guy just flew and smacked. total face plant. well, more like a body plant.

i calm everyone down.

we leave the little room. apparently time passes superquicklike when you're having fun. i have 15 minutes to get to work. i have a wild look in my eyes, and they rush me right through. meanwhile? this very large, very tough looking woman, keeps staring at me. my guess is because the little guy is walking around whining a bit. she. keeps. staring. then she helpfully points out that the kid has a nose bleed. holy high hell. I HADN'T EVEN NOTICED I JUST THOUGHT HE WAS BEING GROUCHY.

i'm late to work, of course. they are slogging through a two hour rush, of course. and i spend the evening worrying about internal bleeding and concussions.

the end.