Change of Plans

Cave treated us to doughnuts this morning, and as I finished my second and was eyeing a third Monster Girl piped up with “We need to go get dressed now and get busy.” My own words, reflecting back at me. I went off into the bedroom and started the ritual, the whole time trying to remember what I had planned for today. Seeds….it’s going to rain later and I like planting just before a rain, I feel as though the seeds are happier and it sets the tone for their lives. I reappeared a minute or so later, and started going through my seed envelopes. My daughter emerged from her room ten minutes later dressed and brushing her hair and squealed “Mommy! You aren’t going dressed like THAT are you?!?” I looked down at my tank top and cut offs, feet bare and with seeds in hand, all ready to go stick some in the ground, and looked back at her, in her newest pair of jeans and a cutest glittery t-shirt, hair shiny and under control for once. Oh. I forgot. I’d promised to take her shopping. *sigh* so I trudged back to the bedroom and started digging through the closet for something appropriate. Would have helped if I’d remembered last night and done some of my own laundry.

I tease her, offering to drive us in our latest acquisition, an elderly truck (‘86 f150 4x2 1/2 ton 4 speed with the sturdy and enduring 300 inline six) that is still wearing it’s inches thick coating of farm with a dusting of bark and sawdust from hauling wood last week. It’s not a Dodge, but I think it’ll do. I can see her hesitate briefly, weighing the fun of riding in the truck against her more princessly duties. She has not yet had the opportunity to ride in it as it was so newly acquired that it only got it’s plates yesterday. The draw is mighty, but she decides no, it’s ugly and dirty and loud and not the way a proper little girl should be chauffeured to her shopping. We’re looking for two pairs of jeans, socks, some drawers and lunch. I don’t anticipate it will take that long so I think once we’re home we’ll shed the duds, climb back into those oh so comfy cut-offs, and take a cruise to the local dump with some recycling in the back of the beast. She’ll get a kick out of that too, especially since I happen to know of a backwoods gravel road that gets a few scant inches of runoff when it rains, nothing that the truck can’t easily handle on a bad day but just enough that a girl might catch a few drops of it as we splash through with the window open, and the road rolls enough that she should have a few giggles shaken out of her as she jiggles this way and that. If she asks I’ll even see if we can’t park for a bit and dabble our toes off the tailgate.

The shopping is necessary, and I do it gladly if not enthusiastically, but I’m really looking forward to the afterwards.