I was gearing up for a Granparents-and-all trip to the big zoo this morning when Granmo said,
“Well, we could take them to the little zoo instead, and you could stay and get on with some stuff…”
It seemed like too good an opportunity to pass up, so I packed them off with water and sunscreen and a double stroller (not for Granmo, sadly) and watched them drive away.
Then I came in and started to clean the kitchen.
Dang. I think I made the wrong choice.
However, an hour and a half later, my downstairs is mostly clean and decluttered and I’m taking a moment before tackling (some of) the upstairs.
It feels quite good, but I’m still feeling a bit conflicted, as I only have a few more days to hang out with my parents and it would have been good to do so at the zoo where the boys could be allowed to roam and we might have had a chance to talk a bit. I swear I talk more to my mother when she’s 3,000 miles away than I can when she’s here!