Last night after the hubby and I finally got all three boys to sleep we settled down on the couch with a glass of soda, and a big blanket, and began flipping through the channels on tv. We were just beginning to relax our aching bones when the satellite went out. Nothing. No channels. No picture. Nothing.
We both knew right away what the problem was because this just happened two weeks ago. We looked at each other and said, "Ice." Luckily, the dish is right off of the upstairs porch so it is really easy to get to. The only problem is that the porch door is only accessible in the boys' bedroom.
Now, I could have done without television for a night. I could have read a book. I could have taken a nice long bath. I certainly could have read all the blogs I neglected over the weekend. But the hubby was having none of it. He wanted some tv, and he wanted it now.
He threw on his boots and a coat and hauled himself upstairs to the boys' bedroom and out the porch door. I reluctantly followed, knowing I would have to answer all the boys' questions and attempt to keep them from following their daddy out the door into the cold.
I got upstairs and closed the porch door which was hanging open letting all the freezing air into the room. The boys sat up and immediately began their barrage of questions.
Joey: "Where is daddy going?"
Tommy: "Was that daddy? I thought that was a monster!"
Joey: "Can I go outside with daddy? What is he doing out there? Is he gonna fall off the porch?"
Tommy: "I don't want daddy to fall!"
Joey: "What is that scraping noise? Is that daddy?"
Tommy: "Why is daddy scraping? Is a monster coming?"
I told the boys that daddy was scraping the ice off of the dish (with a butter knife, thank you very much), that he wouldn't fall, they couldn't go outside with him, and that there were no monsters. I decided to have the boys go potty one more time since they were awake anyway. We trekked across the hall, they did their duty, and ran back to bed to get warm again. I crawled up to the top bunk and tucked Joey back in to his warm blankies. I gave him his special blankie, "lellow", and a kiss on his nose. Then I headed back down the ladder to tuck Tommy in.
Again, I pulled the blankets up to his nose, gave him his lambie, and then crawled on to the bed and laid down with him until Todd was done.
Tommy: "You can't lay in dis bed, mama! You're too big!"
Me: "No I am not!"
Tommy: "Uh-huh! You're big! You are a big mama!"
Tommy: "You are a big mama."
Thank goodness Todd came in just then to save me from this verbal assault. I rolled my big, huge body off of the bottom bunk, being very careful not to squish my child with my massive girth. I gave each boy one last kiss and headed to the door with directions to go right to sleep.
Me: "Goodnight, boys. God bless you, I love you!"
Joey: "Night mum. I love you!"
Tommy: "Goodnight, big mama. I love you!"
I walked downstairs, grabbed a bag of popcorn, more soda, and sat on the sofa for the rest of the night watching pointless tv. If I was gonna be a "big mama" I might as well act like one, right?