Faking It

The little boys have had colds. Seamus, rather miserably climbed into my bed last week on Friday, and declared, all stuffy, “I caught my brother’s cold.” And Gilbert will inform anyone, “I’ve got a bad cold.” Gilbert had vocal fry down, and he uses it on the word bad. I fell victim to the cold this week too, but today, I have an Admissions open house I have to attend on campus, so I put on my suit, and prepared to at least look the part. However, I also forgot my office key, which means I’m now sitting outside my office hoping fervently that someone from housekeeping is going to come and open it for me. I’m not very optimistic, even though they said they would.

Most disheartening thing this week: The Vespa fell over in the high winds we had Thursday. When I left work at 5:35, it was on it’s side. I picked it up, but it wouldn’t start. Patrick did manage to get it restarted later that evening, but I was pretty bummed about it falling over.

Secondary frustration: I had to return something to Target. It was the yoga mat I bought about a month ago and had used four times. It already had divets in it! I, however, did not have the receipt. You may recall the time I did not return the underwear that I bought for Seamus in which someone had stolen a pair from the package. I was really irritated when they said that they’d only give store credit for 3/4 of the cost of the mat. Finally, they agreed to a straight exchange, but it was so annoying that, I swear, it is my last Target trip ever.

And, at the risk of turning this post into a version of retail therapy, I’ll let you in on a secret. Gilbert and I went shopping for Seamus’s birthday. Seamus loves building with his IKEA train set, but I wanted to get him a special piece of track (a flat X) for more possibilities. G and I went on a mission while Seamus was at preschool. At Target (before the fall, but leading up to it) I saw a cupcake decorating set that I knew S would love, but then I thought, why am I doing this? And I headed straight over to the local toy store, doodlehoppers. I’m glad I did. We found the perfect train set piece (one of the Thomas collection), and the cupcake set (not cheaper, because buying local the point is that you invest in the community, but a better one!). Instead of two cupcakes, it had four, and was only 3 dollars more than the one at Target. Quality counts! Anyway, now I’ve hidden the gifts and we are ready for birthday. Except Gilbert keeps telling Seamus that we went shopping for him, and Seamus wants to know what we got, but Gil either can’t remember or he’s teasing Seamus, or he knows what “ssh, it’s a surprise” means. Or some combination of all three.

In other Gilbert news, he’s started asking, “Why did you call me ‘Gil’?” if we shorten his name. Seamus likes to run down the list of what everybody calls Gilbert–Mama: Gilbert, Merrill: Gilbot, Kalina: Yogurt, Grandude: Gil, Nana: Gillie, Grandaddy: Horsefly, Dada: Henry. ETC. I’ve started calling him Gilby when he calls me Mommy, but then he laughs and that clears up. He told us today that his name was only “Gilbert, nothing else.”

UPDATE: I got into my office, after I called again about it. I met the students, and it was a productive open house. I love this stuff. I’m going to start wearing my suit a lot more.


1 comment

  1. “Gilbert, nothing esle” That is just so funny–gotta love that little Gilbert. And Happy Birthday to Seamus!

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