We went to St. Louis. While in St. Louis, we stayed at a variety of family and friends' houses but set up our primary base at Rob's parents' house. One night when we were going to stay at our friend's house, I told the kids to pack overnight bags.
Upon arrival one kid goes, "Did you grab my bag?"
And I was like, what the hell? No. Why didn't you get your bag? Why would you think I should grab your bag? You are plenty old enough to both pack and carry a plastic bag of clothes?
And then the other kid goes, "Oh, I didn't pack a bag."
WHAT?!
"I didn't have any clean clothes so I just didn't pack one."
"But...toothbrush and also YOUR CLEAN CLOTHES THAT I TOLD YOU ABOUT WERE IN A LAUNDRY BASKET FOLDED AT YOUR STUPIDLY PRIVILEGED FEET!"
Okay, that's not exactly what I said. But I thought something like it.
One of the idiot-genius offspring of mine in the previous story also once arrived to the hot springs wearing...no SHOES. Like, he, for real, left the house without SHOES on.
Same kid on the drive the airport reveals that he had not used toothpaste the entire week we'd been gone because...he didn't bring any. No, he had not considered that he was at his Grandparent's four-bathroom house that had MULTIPLE extra tubes. Worse still, his brother who he was sharing a bathroom with goes, "you could've used mine."
And duh, yeah, he could have used any of ours.
But probably I win for dumbest move on the trip.
For when I started a load of laundry less than an hour before we were to go to the airport? No. And yes, said-load of laundry remains in St. Louis. And yes, I am a dumb, dumb, time-optimist.
But no, the thing I did was this:
I was at my friend's house and she wanted to show me some shoes she was excited about. And boy, were they exciting. I mean, the heels were clear with a screw inside and the fronts also had heels, or I guess those are called platforms? and not heels...or something. I don't know. I know ski boots; not heels.
The shoes sparkled and were shiny and high and I was like, "somewhere there's a drag queen exists would absolutely beat you up for these and then be real disappointed not to have like a size 5 shoe." My friend is small. And yes, the size of said-friend is relevant. Also relevant is how the temperature was dropping. These pieces of information matter because...physics.
So anyway, after looking at the very shiny shoes, and feeling exTREMEly excited to see my super-fun small friend, I look up to see... a pole-dancing pole in her room.
It was chrome.
It was shiny.
It was center mounted to the room with nothing around it and I was like, "WAHATT!!!!? Is that ATTACHED?"
She replied, "yes," and then I guess she said something else about how it attached or something but I heard none of that because I was looking for a safe spot to set my drink down.
After putting my beer on a dresser, I looked up and didn't think, AT ALL, before launching my entire weight into a spin on the pole, feet tucked up, legs grabbing.
I'm plenty strong for this. I am plenty coordinated for this. I had also just been doing a push-up challenge and had spent a couple of days doing some really ridiculous physical activities like playing zombie tag and going to playgrounds. It could have been fine.
Especially if I had heard the rest of what she said before spinning the pole clean off the ceiling. I made it 270 degrees before it crashed down with me still firmly attached. Like I was one of those pencil decorations, perhaps a sloth or a koala.
Simultaneously, her spouse downstairs, who is my husband's bestie was like "it's about to get crazy up here." This was followed seconds later by the noise of the pole crashing with me centrivically attached to it. Thus his prediction was instantaneously confirmed like he was a motherfucking genie or something.
Also, one of my children has been asserting that Spiderman is essentially an excuse for there to be a pole dancing super hero and I was proving him right.
I'm Spiderwoman! On top of a pencil.
But when the temperature drops and a pole is tension-mounted you should probably hear everything someone says about how a pole is attached. Apparently, you should check it before use and increase the weight gradually because with temperature fluctuations, sometimes the tension-mounting mechanism is no longer tense enough. Think of the shower curtain rod but with me attached to it and spinning around a room when the curtain crashed down.
I'll cut through that shit just like tension butter!
On the way home from the airport (which, because of the move, is now a 4-hour drive,) we had to stop for the kids to use the bathroom.
Upon returning to the car from his pit stop, Gavin exhaled loudly and was like, "well, this is what happened in the bathroom. I went in and thought it was Magnus in the bathroom and I go, "Bro, you're pooping?" and then a minute later this deep voice goes "...yeah..."
And while I'm cackling and out of breath, Rob asked if Gavin had told the guy he'd thought that was his brother. Gavin was like, "no, I just got out of there as fast as possible."
For Christmas we made a video and I'll see if I can post it along with the fabulous super hero concepts my son has made like stripper-spiderman. But it's fifty-fifty whether that'll work out. The video was us singing "I saw three ships come sailing in on Christmas day in the morning" over the visual of our folded paper boats in the giant, jetted bathtub and then some other awesomeness ensued involving sticky-ninjas and lego, attack-ships, except I dropped my phone in the tub as I finished filming; so I'll check on these things after phone completes its rice treatment and get back to you.
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