Kiss My Knits!

We had fun at Mom’s hiding eggs and finding them. She got with the “warmer… warmer… cooler…” method of finding them fairly quickly. Also, apparently two-colored eggs are an abomination of nature. Eggs should only be dyed a single color. The gospel according to Emily.

Last night my husband made meatloaf and macaroni and cheese, and I steamed some asparagus. I wanted to bring some to my dad, but it was way too late by the time everything was ready. So I told him I’d bring some tonight. At about 7:40, I did a couple of dishes to get ready to make roasted red potatoes and asparagus to be a nice side dish for the meatloaf I was going to bring my father. (If you make this, all the spices that say 4 teaspoons should probably be 1/4 teaspoons.) Before I started to peel the potatoes, my husband came in and said that he forgot to tell me, he had told his buddy he was going to coffee with him tonight.

D’oh! So we had a quick change of plans, now Emily and I would be going over to Dad’s ASAP since it was already past her bedtime. I started to steam some asparagus, and while I prepped that, Emily said from the den that she wanted to crack an egg. Hardboiled Easter eggs, that is. I said she was NOT allowed to crack the eggs. So I get the asparagus going, pack up some Tupperware, and go into the den to tell her to get her socks and shoes.

AND SHE’S PEELING AN EGG ON THE RECLINER. WTF?? This child is usually so obedient! And she hates boiled eggs! I have no idea what got into her today. I made her to go her room until the timer went off. (Note, you only steam asparagus for about 3-4 minutes, so this wasn’t exactly onerous.) Going to her room wasn’t the bad part of the punishment. Me telling her that I was upset was. This is a child who, in spite of her autism, is really sensitive to the feelings of others – when she realizes they’re actually having those feelings.

We went over to my father’s, and she was full of “I love you!” for him. Unfortunately, she speaks super-softly. He didn’t quite hear some, and I could barely make it out. I think the rest was, “I love you, Grandpa! Now please save me from the crazy lady!” Anyway, Grandpa the soft touch had a copy of Happy Feet for her, which we’ll open tomorrow since it was too late to do it tonight.

She got to bed at 8:54. She’ll be up by 6am at the latest. I should probably turn in now myself. Let’s hope that tomorrow she doesn’t ramp up the insanity and join a motorcycle gang or something.