Me: How late were you up last night?

Ben: Oh ’til 1 or so. I was too keyed up after the bar [test, not drinking establishment] to sleep. I watched bad tv.

Me: Just think, honey. No more studying. You can watch bad tv [immediately interrupted]

Ben: FOREVER!!!!

Ellie [with elbows on table staring intently at our wedding photo]: Mommy, why did you marry Daddy?

Me [in awe of such a thoughtful question]: Well honey, I love Daddy. He makes me laugh and I have so much fun with him. Sometimes when that happens people get married.

Ellie: Did you get married HERE [gesturing at our house]?

Me: No. We got married in Illinois.

Ellie [quiet for a minute then sitting down with the saddest face ever]: So I was HERE all by myself and lonely.

Me: Oh no. You weren’t lonely. It was before you were HERE.

Ellie: So you DID get married HERE [gesturing at the house]?

Me: No honey, we got married in Illinois.

Ellie: Then I WAS HERE and all lonely.

Repeat 47 times before Mommy’s brain leaked out of her left Eustachian tube.

Ben: Hey, do you know where the three-hole punch is?

Me: Are you seriously asking me that as I stand not three feet away cleaning pee off the floor while it’s still in midstream?

Ben: Kind of.

[Note: Said pee is not my own.]

The cat is back roaming our neighborhood. Those are some kahunas.

For nearly two months, Ben has been trying to catch a cat in a cat trap. This neighborhood cat has a collar, enjoys garbage and eats birds from our bird house. He knows we’re trying to lure him. He sits in the driveway across the street, glaring at me through our living room windows giving me what appears to be the kitty finger. Shy of donning camouflage, and waiting in a cat blind, Ben did everything. Used sardines. Sprinkled Fancy Feast with cat nip. Prepared dry food with tuna.

Six weeks later, at 4:30 pm on the Friday of Independence Day weekend, when all government offices are closed, kitty cat took the bait. Ben cared for the prisoner with kindness and compassion for 48 hours. On Sunday evening of said weekend, Ben received a call from Animal Protection informing him that he could transfer kitty to maximum security. With lightening speed, Ben and kitty were gone.

Despondent Ben returned 20 minutes later to inform us that kitty had its final revenge. It had saved all the savory treats Ben fed him in his lower intestine (the kitty’s not Ben’s) and released it all in his back seat after exiting the driveway. 100 degree days have made Ben’s fondness for felines grow by leaps and bounds. I will never ride in his car again as long as I live.

Today I’m 43. I’ve never been one to take issue with adding another 365 of to my personal calendar. Plus, there’s cake. And today, a mucho grande margarita. However this year I feel more like 63 maybe. Not to be a downer, but in the words of Mrs. Garrett, “you take the good, you take the bad, you take ‘em both…” and then I think you shove ‘em up her ass. Is that how it goes? I forget.

In a series of meetings/evaluations over the course of the last few weeks to get Ellie some assistance, the most recent was this afternoon to determine her eligibility for special education preschool in August. I felt like Uncle Buck when his nephew bombarded him with rapid-fire questions over a pancake breakfast. That part wasn’t bad, it was the waiting that immediately followed, while scores were tabulated. Our diagnostician announced that Ellie had indeed been accepted into the program. Although this was the response I was hoping for in starting her on the right track to cope with her sensory issues and social development, I couldn’t help but feel like I was thanking a group of rush chairs from the tri sigs for making us pledges. These women were nothing but lovely. My internal iMovie creates the strangest shit sometimes.