The jury's out

I keep forgetting to call in on the correct day for my jury duty. Yesterday, when I called to confess I'd missed the date again, the nice gentleman on the other line told me that my actions were starting to look like "willful negligence" and that they would only give me ONE MORE CHANCE. So, if I take an unexpected break next week, rest assured, it's only that I forgot jury duty again and I'm being held in contempt of court.

But really, how the hell am I supposed to go in for jury duty when I've got the two kids? My in-laws are out of town, and so is Lance, which leaves me approximately zero babysitters. I'm not really inclined to pay someone $10/ hour while I drive downtown in traffic to sit in some jury room for a few hours before I'm excused anyway. However, the nice gentleman on the phone didn't care to hear my tale of woe. "Yes", he said,"if you are given a time to come to court you have to do it, babysitter or not." So, I guess, if I get called in, I take the kids with me. HA! You want "willful negligence", sir, meet my son!

In other news, there are only 6 short months before I can send Vivian to school. Possibly 5, if the Godiva chocolates I've been sending the pre-school director have the desired effect. Yes, I love my daughter, but she is 19 months old, and sitting quietly reading books while Mommy blogs is no longer something she likes to do. In fact, she won't even watch t.v. when I offer it, which leads me to believe there is something critically wrong with her. What kid doesn't want to watch Bob the Builder for the six millionth time in a row?

My real motive for sending dear sweet muffin to school is her intellectual development, of course. I mean, my god! She can count to ten already! And her Lily the ear-drum-bursting counting doll only sings that lovely song up to 10, so I've got to do something. I think they go over numbers at school, so . .. there. She's going. The minute they let her in.

Today it is 85 degrees in Los Angeles, so I put Vivian in a summer outfit before we went to get Isaac from school. "What a pretty dress!" Isaac said when he saw her. My little metro-sexual son; Daddy will be so proud.