I need a vacation

Henry has had a the last week off from school. Here are a few of the choice things that went wrong over the last week:

1. Lucy learned how to spit. She spit milk over the loft railing. She spit milk at Henry. She entertained herself by spitting water into the sink at bed time.

2. I caught Henry climbing up onto the counter to get a glass to "help himself" to a can of pop while I was upstairs changing Lucy's diaper. The counter had an old depression glass cake plate on which my mom had sent the remains of my birthday cake. Luckily for him he didn't break the plate, but it wasn't because he was being careful.

3. I cleaned up chewed gum from the back seat of the van on three separate occasions because Henry "didn't have a tissue." He didn't ask for a tissue either.

4. Lucy learned how to hit. She doesn't hit hard but it is still a problem. Henry alternates between yelling, "Mom, Lucy hit me!" and goading her with, "hit me, hit me!" One day she was actually in time out twice in the half-hour right before Cary got home.

5. I went to the grocery store knowing I had a bunch of stuff to buy for Henry's birthday party and forgot my shopping list.

6. Cary came home on Tuesday night with an ear ache that was so severe that he went to see his dad immediately, and came home with ear drops for a viral ear infection.

7. But, hopefully, this will be the punctuation mark on the last seven days. This morning Henry woke up a little before Cary and eagerly started work on one of his birthday presents -- a set of paint your own race cars which he is much too young to own. He opened the box, got out the paints and got to work. By the time Cary found him the cars were painted and so was my vintage Marimekko tablecloth that I had used for the party. Cary tried some water but that didn't get the paint out. No one read the label on the paint, or bothered to wake me up to address the problem. When I woke up I could conclude only that at least I had left the tablecloth on the table or we would have had a bigger mess, and that it must be that time of year again where Henry ruins something I care about.

(Note to readers, as I am typing this Lucy is singing "Whip It" to herself while playing quietly, so all is not lost)