Honey, I'm home! What's for dinner?

Quick post, 4:15 is usually a busy time around my house. Just got off work, directing kids on whose turn it is to do dishes, and whose turn it is to clean the catbox. (Why they can't just read the f*in chart I made them that is hanging on the wall in front of their face, I don't know, but come the heck on)lmk-stands for 'love my kids' I will throw that out once in a while when I talk about my loving children and use cuss words in the same sentence. Stupid? I know! But, somehow it will make me feel better, so I'm gonna keep it.

I'm also trying to figure out what I can throw together for dinner. Some nights I'm all gourmet, standing in the kitchen with an apron on, whisk in one hand, food network recipe sitting on the counter. Sometimes I'm all Mac-n-Cheese, or Capt'n Crunch.The hubby will walk in  from work, never failing to ask "whats for dinner?" atleast he is consistent, if not completely deserving of a slap upside the head.Why a slap?? (loving slap, I wouldn't want Anderson Cooper saying I am committing husband abuse) Because see, I work also! I just get off about an hour before him, and somehow even though I have worked at the same job for 10 years, I swear he forgets. Maybe it is because the first thing I do when I get home is run upstairs, take off the black work pants, black zip up boots, collared blouse, dangly bracelets, and anything else that is considered office attire, and I put my favorite pair of sweats on.I literally feel and hear my body let out a sigh of relief the second I undress and put on less restricting clothing. He walks in the door, see's me in 'comfy clothes' not 'office clothes' and it's like JOB?? what job?? my wife works?? Yes babe, I work.I wasn't home all day planning out my meals, shucking corn, soaking pinto beans, defrosting chicken.

I head out of my room in my sweats and immediately start getting bombarded with children's needs, questions,wants,arguments, stories, all of it!!

K my 13 year old daughter- "mom, I need you to sign my Algebra paper." as she is shoving it under my nose.

Me: "umm, o.k. Can I go pee first?"

K (with a 13 year old eye roll) - "Well, can you just sign it first? I want to get it put away"
 **how that is even a reason, argument, or excuse, I have no clue. Her putting away her paper is more important than me finally getting to go pee, after holding it all day at work because I was so busy I forgot to go.And now I will surely get a kidney infection.

B (15 year old daughter)- "Umm, I was wondering if you could take my phone restrictions off during school hours. I promise I won't call anybody during class"

Me-"Then why does it matter?"

B- "Wulll ('well' in teenage tone) I don't know, I was just wondering."

Me - " Go wonder about your Science book, or how to solve the worlds budget crisis"

B - (who really is not a 'talk-backer') " O.K." - my theory on her is this. She is not a 'talk-backer' to my face, but I will almost swear on my life that there is a secret blog out there, made by her, that is comprised of every smart ass comeback that she would love to say to me when I tell her NO!! Her blog probably has 234,000 followers,made up of all teenage girls. It is called this: mymomisabitchanditoldhertoher faceanddidntevengetintrouble.blogspot.com

Ki (5 year old daughter) - "Mama, I love you. Want to play the ladybug game with me. I missed you today"

Me- "I will play in just a few minutes my baby bear"

K and B - Both roll their eyes, because they think my 5 year old is spoiled, and my pet names for her are lame. Although they both have pet names, and have no problem when I call out "Hey Sweetie, Hey BB. You girls want to go to Hollister? They are having a huge sale. You can each get a new Hoodie and jeans" How stupid are pet names now, huh??!!

Ki - " Mommy, can you tie this for me?" already distracted, and forgot that she asked me to play a game.

Don't you feel as a parent to a 3-7 year old little girl that you are constantly tying things? Last night while emailing, I had to tie a halter dress on Barbie, a leash on Barbies Swimming pup, a string bracelet thing, then another evening gown strap because Barbie wanted to change. And just now she ran up asking me to tie her My Little Pony's tail around the end of the Pony carriage. (Poor Pony, guess he has to pull a carriage with his tail) I should start checking how my daughter treats our cat. Look for any signs of tail deformities.

I then get a 'ding' on my phone to alert me of a new email. I check it, and realize it is from my boss. Darn smart phones. I want to ignore it but can't. So there goes another 1/2 hour dealing with that. ( I work from home every once in a while, so I am equipped to do both. Office or Home)

Then another 'ding' A text from my almost 18 year old son, who lives half with me, half with my ex husband in Orange County, that reads like this-

hey mom! love you. I'm not going to be able to come down tonight. I have a photo assignment due,so I need to do that. Oh, and also my car is making a weird noise, so I don't want to drive it on the freeway. I'm still looking for a job though, I turned in an application last week. Love you mom!
This is what I think of his text:
hey mom! love you.I know you do, but when you start with that, it means you are going to say something I don't like. I'm not going to be able to come down tonight.Let me guess, the girl you like is in a dance show at your school, and you want to watch?I have a photo assignment due,so I need to do that.Oh, a photo assignment. Well good for you, I am proud of you.(but you may be lying and still goin after the girl. I'll never know) Oh, and also my car is making a weird noise, so I don't want to drive it on the freeway.Really? Really? Because it has been making a weird noise since you bought the thing, and I know for a fact you and your friends took your car to Knotts Berry Farm this weekend. Didn't have a problem driving on the freeway then did ya? I'm still looking for a job though, I turned in an application last week.'An' Application. As in the number one? Wow honey, so proud of you. An application a month. You are makin this Mama proud. Let me brag about you on my facebook posts. Love you mom! I love you too C

I finally make my way to the kitchen, dragging my slippers, wishing that I was married to Emeril Lagasse. He would cook me dinner every night.Wait! Why did I say Emeril? Why was that my first choice to start typing? I could have spewed out any name, Jamie Oliver that naked cooking guy. Bobby Flay, he's kinda cute in a BBQ'y kinda way. Heck even whats his face with the spiky, white hair and sunglasses on the back of his head. Guy! Guy Fieri. Well, Emeril it is. Maybe another one of my weird crushes.

But I am not married to Emeril, but instead a General Contractor. Although let me tell you, he built me a t.v. cabinet like nobodies business. And he looks all cute construction workery' when he has his tool belt on, and ........well I'll stop there.
So General Contractor comes in ( I can usually hear his diesel truck pull in) and the first thing that comes out of his mouth- "What's for Dinner?" This is after he looks me up and down, eyeing my fuzzy slippers, giving me that 'wow, it must be nice to sit around in your jammies all day' look.

Let me explain to my followers. I work Monday -Thursday. Monday I work from home, but let me tell you, I do work. T,W,TH , I work in the office from 9-4.Every once in a while I get off at 2 or 3, but let me assure you, it is not to come home so that I can catch the tail end of General Hospital. My butt does not sit and relax until after 9 p.m. almost every night.
So him asking what is for dinner, is just the same as me asking him. So I treat the question as a game of Hot Potato or Tag.

"Right back 'atcha honey! What is for dinner?" Tag, your it! As I run upstairs!