Almost-disaster, gym high, dinner
/I often put my wedding ring by the sink when I wash my face. Obviously I'm not going to leave it there, and it couldn't fit into our drain, so I've never given it much thought. Dumb mom move! Oliver loves to stand on the toilet, which in our 1939 house is RIGHT NEXT TO the sink (what's up with some aspects of older architecture? why no ceiling lights? why bathrooms in which you can pee, wash your feet, and wash your hands simultaneously?), while I put on make-up and such. He asks for lotion, rubs it on his legs, tells me he might use make-up "when me older", etc. It's nice time together although I do sometimes wish for bathroom privacy. Anyway, the other day, I hear a kerplunk, and I said "Ol, did you drop something in the garbage can?" He says, very matter-of-fact and in his hilarious accent, "ya ring, Mom." People, can you imagine if he hadn't told me, or if the ring had fallen on a tissue and I'd not heard it drop? It would be in a DC dump by now, and I'd be crushed. Not to mention that I told T pretty much the night we got married that if he didn't lose his wedding band within the first year I'd be shocked, so wouldn't that be a bust to have it put back on "i'm so responsible" me. Thank you universe for letting that ring make a sound and my son be so endearingly honest. I have been to the gym 2 days in a row. Years ago, this was my norm, but now I feel as if I deserve a gold star. I feel awesome! I feel like I've graduated from the weeds that are the first two years of each child's life with you! This attitude could be totally different tomorrow, but I'm going to go on with my feeling-victorious self right now and raise a glass.
The steak has been marinating for four+ hours now and has taken on a lovely, dark brown hue, thanks, I'm sure, to the soy sauce and brown sugar. T's on his way home with romaine, and I'm about to toss up a tomato bruschetta. What day is it? Does it matter?
