The morning of his departure, I drove to north central Phoenix and picked up a BIG yellow school bus that had been kindly donated to Scott by Kennedy and Grace Alltucker, whose parents also work at the Republic.
Did I mention this bus was BIG? It is so large, in fact, that it didn't fit in my SUV. Kennedy's dad had to put it in his car and follow me back to my house where we spent 10 minutes trying to figure out which door to shove it through while incurring the least amount of damage to the bus and the door-frame.
Once I got the school bus inside, I decided the perfect place for it was next to our china cabinet, in the middle of the hallway that links our family room to the rest of the house. Since Jim was "unavailable for consultation" I relocated the pak 'n play to the kitchen and moved other items into Jim's so-called "man room" -- a cavernous space that currently includes a flat screen TV, bar stools and a pool table.
It was my not-so-very-subtle way of reminding Jim that Scott and his toys would soon be taking over the entire place, and that nothing, not even his precious "bachelor cave" was sacrosanct.
He doesn't believe me, so I feel the need to reiterate this point every once in a while.
I was very proud of myself.
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| Yes, mommy, I think the family room is the PERFECT place for my new toy. |
When Jim came home after two very long weeks, he walked in through the garage door and almost tripped head first over the school bus. I laughed. He told me that there was no way that the bus was staying in the family room.
I ignored him. And so the bus stayed. Until Saturday.
Scott and I left the house around 11 a.m. to go tuxedo shopping for my cousin's upcoming wedding. (Our little Tank is part of the wedding party.)
When we got home, the school bus was missing. I found it a few minutes later in Scott's room. In the 57 minutes that we were gone, Jim had DISASSEMBLED the school bus (because it didn't fit through Scott's bedroom door), put it back together, and rearranged half the nursery to accommodate it, moving both the toy-box and Scott's dresser.
He must have started this project before I even closed the garage door.
Jim gloated. He smugly told me that he had "reclaimed" his house and his man room.
To which I say: well-played.
But just for now. He'll travel again, and I am pretty sneaky myself. There might be new furniture or paint on the walls when he returns. Or maybe I'll turn his pool table into a train-set table for Scott.
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| The relocated bus, reassembled in Scott's room. |
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| Thanks for putting all my toys within arms' reach, daddy! |
And as long as I am airing our excellent communication styles, I'd like to mention that both Jim and I have developed a wonderful habit of talking to each other THROUGH our child. Scott has become the ultimate emissary.
After all, Jim is much less likely to get annoyed at something I say, if Scott is the one saying it. And vice versa.
It usually goes something like this:
"Scott, are you done eating? Yes? Well, I think you should tell your daddy that it is time for him to stop playing his video game and get your bath ready."
A few seconds later, I am hit with the following response:
"Scott, mommy never lets us do what we want, does she? I know. She's no fun. Seriously."
Yes, we're very mature.
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| Do I look like a negotiator to you? Seriously, you guys should try talking to each other every once in a while. |
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