I had chicken dirt on my knees and probably in my hair. My shirt was soaked with sweat and the dog was looking at me like I was crazy. My stitches were hurting.
I needed water & a shower.
I figured I had about 45 minutes before they'd be back.
I worked my way slowly back to the house noting that my younger daughter (who likes to pretend to be a galloping horse jumping obstacles) had pulled random stuff out of the garage and erected hurdles all over the yard. Before the surgery I expressly asked her NOT to do that since it discourages my DH from mowing the lawn.
Annoyed, I made it to the kitchen and into the refrigerator where I've stashed a drinking glass - every other dish in the house is dirty, covering every square inch of the counter top. I got my drink and hid my glass again.
Then I made my way through the hall and around the growing mountain of laundry. It was all a blur. I was running out of time and my insides were really starting to protest.
In the bathroom I turned on the water, stripped down, and
stepped into the increasingly grimy shower. With locker room haste I washed my hair, soaped down my body, paused to check my steri strips and bruises, and then went to wash my face.
No wash cloth.
Why were there no wash cloths! Where were they! I rinsed my face as best I could while muttering about imagined projects my girls could have dreamt up involving ALL the wash cloths.
A quick check of my knee caps verified that the barnyard evidence was washed away and then I turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, reaching for my towel.
Cursing, I splashed across the room to the towel cabinet
which was EMPTY!
I headed for the archival pile of unfolded but allegedly
clean laundry in my bedroom. No towels.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw them pull into the driveway!
With great haste I grabbed a table cloth, dried my hair, and quickly wrapped it around my body like a towel.
Slow down, slow down. Act like nothing weird is going on.
I could hear them coming in the door. Then, my older daughter caught sight of me.
"What are you doing?" (hear the teenage sneer)
"Just drying off." (act casual) "There weren't any towels."
"But that's a table cloth!"
"Yeah, I know...."
Seeing my husband coming down the hall I raised my voice a bit and let my annoyed-because-you-people-are-totally letting-the-house-fall-apart-while-I'm-in-such-dire-pain attitude seep through....
"....I COULDN'T FIND ANY TOWELS!"
Quietly my husband said with eye brows raised, "Did you look in the dryer?"
"No," I mumbled and wandered back to the bathroom.
My younger daughter followed me into the bathroom. "Mom! That's a table cloth, not a towel. We use that to eat."
From the kitchen my older daughter called from the kitchen, "Why is this empty glass in the refrigerator?"
More of yesterday and some of today.....
minus my BFF coming out to see the barn building and my newly established grape vines. I escorted her around the "farm" in my nightgown tied in a knot and my rubber boots. Everyone should have a pair.