Home > Random > Just Another Monday Night (Revised)

Just Another Monday Night (Revised)

(This is a revised version of the one I initially (accidentally) published.  I intended to hit “Save Draft” and instead hit “Publish.”)

Monday nights are boy’s night (just me and Samuel) at our house (to be literal, it’s not at our house- we leave the house).  The Dear Wife has a few friends over every Monday, so Samuel and I vacate  the premises (quickly and eagerly) for a couple of hours.  When we do, you never know what might happen.

First stop, Sun and Ski.

Before getting out of the car, Samuel is complaining of his throat hurting, his eye aching, and his stomach not feeling well.

“When did this start?” I ask.

“When I got out of the car,” he answers, covering one eye so it won’t hurt (don’t worry, there is no logic to his remedy).

“It’ll be quick,” I tell him.  “Are you getting sick?”

“I don’t know.”

His “illness” is easily remedied when he sees the display where people can try different types of sandals.  He runs up and down it.

The drive to Chick-Fil-A

“How are you feeling?” I ask.

“Much better,” Samuel replies.

“Were you hurting because we were going to Sun and Ski?”

He ignores the question, and instead re-directs the conversation.  “How much longer till we get there?  I’m sooo hungry.”

“Five minutes.”

“One, two, three-”

“I said ‘minutes,’ not seconds.”

“I know.  One, two, three.”

Dinner at Chick-Fil-A

Why do I always get in line behind the person who is ordering for 50 people (this person’s order required multiple bags and three employees to carry it out to their car)?

Samuel gets the straws and picks out a seat while I wait on our order (and wait and wait).

(BTW- The Chick-Fil-A spicy chicken is definitely better than Wendy’s.  Just throwing that in.)

Most of the time, Samuel is a talker.  From the moment his eyes open till they fall asleep, his mouth is open and talking.  However, there are a few things that silence him:  strangers, tv, and food (he focuses on his meal.  Unless he doesn’t like it, then it’s the beloved sight of him spitting it out or staring at it while telling me how much it stinks or how disgusting it is).

We arrived at Chick-Fil-A just in time.  Between the guy ordering 50 of everything (only a slight exaggeration) and me, two vans pulled up and unloaded a church youth group returning from a mission trip.  They ordered so much food the employees brought it to them, which turned out to be much more difficult than you might imagine.  The group had split into 3 different factions (adult volunteers (dragging and bleary-eyed), the teenage girls, and then everyone else.  And, they sat as far apart from one another as they possibly could (opposite sides of the restaurant, front and back).  The employees were running back and forth (that order goes to them, that one goes there (I am easily amused)).

Back at our table, the conversation can be summed up like this (spread this out over 60 minutes, because not only does Samuel not talk when eating, he is a slowww eater).

“More mustard, please.”

Ten minutes pass.

“More mustard, please.” (After I’d already gotten him more mustard.)

“I’m ready for my ice cream.”

Ice cream finished.

“Let’s go look at some toys.”  And from there, we headed to Target and Wal-Mart to look at toys.  Just another Monday night with a 5 year old (chicken nuggets, ice cream, and toys).

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Categories: Random
  1. Tonya
    July 3, 2010 at 10:28 am

    LOL!!! Great story. Samuel is one funny kid

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