Happy Father's Day, Or Not, Because Apparently I Am An Idiot

My, what a weekend, a weekend in which nothing wanted to go my way.

How about on Saturday morning, when I made a THIRD visit to the doctor for the horrible poison ivy I’ve been plagued with for two weeks, now joined by a lovely rash covering my torso and arms, because I wasn’t itching nearly enough, and discovered that I had a reaction to the steroids, and normally they would treat drug-reaction rashes with steroids, but my reaction is caused by steroids, so hey, good luck with that, and oh, evidently your blood pressure shot way way way up, too, maybe another drug reaction, so try not to have a poison-ivy-induced stroke and please schedule a FOURTH freaking poison ivy doctor’s appointment next week to make sure you’re back to normal.

Or how about on Saturday afternoon, when I backed the car out of the garage, tried to not run over my dog, heard a loud CRASH!, and looked over to see the right side mirror now dangling from the car, or should I say the case of the mirror, because the actual mirror was in pieces on my driveway, and let me just tell you I’m thrilled to add “schedule and complete expensive car repair that might involve insurance claims” to my horribly long to-do list next week.

But the piece de resistance was today, a day that I believed ALL WEEK LONG was Father’s Day. I scurried to Target yesterday to get cards for the Grandpas and interrupted Henry and Eleanor’s lunch to have them sign them because MUST GET IN MAIL TODAY HURRY UP WE’RE ALREADY LATE. I stayed up past midnight last night crafting a loving blog post (which some of you early birds might have read before I took it down to save for next weekend). I sprung out of bed this morning to cook Andy and kiddos a blueberry pancake and scrambled egg breakfast. I let Andy go back to bed to get some well-deserved extra Father’s Day shut-eye.

And then I was alerted to the fact that no, you idiot, Father’s Day is NEXT weekend. But Andy and I realized that celebrating might be difficult next Sunday if we’re on the road to the lake, so we embraced my cluelessness and declared today Unofficial Father’s Day. I mean, we had already enjoyed the commemorative pancakes, so why not make a day of it?

I made up the rule that on Unofficial Father’s Day the mommies get treated, too, so I snuck off and got my second-ever-in-my-life pedicure.

nothing says “I love you, Dad” like freshly painted toenails

After the afternoon rain showers passed through, we headed over to the spray park, where we had a picnic in the grass and then splashed in the sprinklers. Henry and Eleanor spent the entire time filling up their cups and dashing over to us to show us the water they had collected. The park was pretty crowded; perhaps the word is getting out about the cool new unofficial holiday.




Tonight Andy and I ended the holiday with some episodes of Entourage while snacking on some (Mishap)py Father’s Day nachos. Luckily for me, I have a husband who is such a great father he’s worth celebrating twice.