What doesn't kill us......

Monday is my day off from work. Well, Sunday and Monday but since we're technically closed on Sunday I don't really count it.

It's also a day off from pre-school for Trot, which means he and I spend the day together. Usually we hang out at home or go to the library and eat lunch with either Rakes or Ciera, depending on whose week it is. Under no circumstances do we go to multiple places and get ourselves in any situation involving the general public.

Unless Ang gives me a list of stuff I've gotta do. Then? All bets are off.

So me and Tweedle Dee headed off to Wally World this morning to pick up her medication. After answering multiple questions about how long it would take and him yelling at every stop light to "GO DAD!", even when it was on red I was fairly agitated when we walked into the store.

It was half way to the Pharmacy when I realized I'd left my wallet at home.

Back to the car we went, and after another 20 minutes back home to get my wallet and make our way BACK to Walmart we arrived at the counter. Where the nice young lady behind the counter, even though I dropped the prescription off YESTERDAY at 10:30 a.m., told me it'd be another "Five minutes".

10 minutes later, after Trot had treated the free blood pressure machine like some video game (during which a man I'd estimate to be around 87 years old with a cane sat down and commented "I can't get my arm in" while I hid behind the display of antibacterial soap and tried to get Trot to climb down off the shelf with the Feminine hygiene products) I once again approached the counter, only to be told "It'll be another few minutes."

It was at this point Trot discovered the "Dr. Shoals" machine. You know the one; you put your feet in the drawing of a pair of feet and they give you your perfect match.

Apparently Trot thought it was like the dancing game at Putt-Putt where you follow the blinking lights and stomp your feet accordingly. I chose to ignore the stares at Trot by the numerous blue haired people waiting in line to pick up their medicine and instead sent mind waves to the girl behind the counter to please hurry this whole process up, all the while trying to figure out how much a new Dr. Shoals machine was going to cost me.

Mercifully, about 5 more minutes later they called my name, I grabbed Trot up like he was a fumble on the 50 yard line with nothing but daylight in front of me and off we went.

To the bank, where Trot hung upside down on the line dividers while I did my business. Then? We went to our other bank; thankfully this one has a candy dish which kept him otherwise occupied. Finally, after what seemed like hours but was actually only around 50 minutes, we made it to school to eat lunch with Rakes.

What followed was roughly 30 minutes of eating mixed with Trot trying to drain the water fountain dry. Once we left school it was off to church to pick up some eggs for Ang. (Long story short? We know an organic dairy farmer who attends church with us and Ang is under the impression that eating organic dairy products will calm the boys down. 5 minutes with either one of them will tell you this is NOT working but if it keeps her happy I'm all for it). We then arrived safely at home.

Where I proceeded to help Rakes with his homework, Trot peed on himself outside which led him to eat dinner in his shirt and a pair of socks, and I flipped between the game and 24 while reading the boys their bedtime stories.

Oh yeah. I had a 10 minute conversation with Ciera about the WWE and why she couldn't EVER marry a wrestler mixed in there somewhere.

Just another Manic Monday.