3:40pm I remember the kitty hat: I called the botanical garden this morning, they found Britta’s pink kitty hat! (Yes, I was actually calling people looking for a pink kitty hat – what has become of me?!) I looked at my watch – 3:40pm. The botanical garden closes at 4:00pm. Can I dress the kids (it’s frickin cold here), put the rain bubble on the bike (yup, cold and raining) and ride 10 minutes to the garden before 4pm? I was willing to give it a try. What the hell, why not.
3:53 unlocked the mom bike.4:03pm botanical garden: Yes! They’re still open. The very gay cashier informed me that the pink kitty hat looks really good on him. Uhh… great.
4:04pm back on bike: I’m feeling adventuresome now that the rain has slowed down. I take the kids on a tour through the edge of the red light district. Some pot fumes, more tourists – and we end up at Dam square.
4-5pm hanging at Dam: We grab some cookies from Santa and his Pete’s. Karsten rides the kid cars. I lose 7 euros – somewhere! Must have dropped them while running after Britta.
5ish riding home: Britta is finally asleep. all hunched over in her baby bubble.
5-6ish eating pizza at our local spot: Karsten and I split a cheese pizza. Britta slept the entire time.
6:30pm back home: Damn. As soon as I got home I remembered my bike rain cover… I left it on the bike next to mine! In my big hurry to rescue the kitty hat, I left it sitting on the bike next to ours. It’s gone. Damn!
6:30-8 trying to feed Britta: She had a few bites of spaghetti. That’s it.
8pm the first puke: Britta threw her sippy cup over the edge of the couch and SPLASH! The lip popped off! Britta!! (scowl) . I grab paper towels from the kitchen, and while I was sopping up the water puddle I saw a half-eaten cereal bar on the bookshelf. Hummm. That looks pretty new… here Britta, eat this. (at this point I’m trying to feed Britta anything) She takes one big bite, and… pukes! Greeeaaaat.
8:45 second dinner for Karsten: Karsten climbed down the stairs and said he was starving. I served up Brittas reheated spaghetti. That worked like a charm. Britta took one bite of banana.
9:45 second puke: While rocking Britta to sleep she gagged on milk/snot/sick-stuff and did a nice projectile puke on me, and everything. Change of outfits needed (Britta and Dad).
10:30 Britta is out: I went right for the Johnny Walker Red Label and popped in my DVD rental Kalifornia.
Midnight: OMG! There’s a live mouse flopping around in the other room RIGHT NOW!! My mouse trap went off but didn’t kill him! He’s frickin squeeking!! Oh man… I don’t want a LIVE mouse… UGGGG!!
