Field Trip,  HomeLife,  Keiglets

one rainy night

Last night was amusing.

And low cost.

Incredibly low cost.

Riley had to work.  Kevin had to work.

I was basically just looking for something to do with the five remaining children and their one mother.

My first thought was to drive down the road a little bit and picnic and play by this cool stream/waterfall area near us.

But the skies looked grey.

And I didn’t feel like eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

So I loaded up my rag tag team and headed into town.

(They really were ragtag.  Mosely’s green skirt did not match her blue shirt – neither in style nor in color.  Although London’s attire somehow went perfectly with her dreads – funny how that hair makes some clothes seem more acceptable.  Bandana, tie-dyed shirt, corduroy old-school gaucho style pants and five finger shoes.  Berg was wearing red rain boots and an old paint-stained t-shirt.  Piper had a striped sundress, a patterned buff and flower-print rain boots.  I think Otto was basically presentable – but only because I am more in charge of his wardrobe.)

We headed to MoJo’s – a local burger place – and because of their fantastic Monday night special of kids eating free, the six of us ate more than our share of burgers and fries for the ridiculously low price of $3.57.

Not kidding!


When we left the restaurant a crazy rainstorm broke out all around us.  Gusts of winds.  Pelting rain.  It was a mess.

We made a concise plan for bolting to the car through the parking lot together and even ordered the way in which the kids would enter the Suburban.

The plan worked pretty  well, I must say.

Except that the plan left Fox and I in the rain for the longest amount of time.

Which at first surprised Fox.

But then amused him.

Next we sloshed through the rainy streets in our car to Chick-fil-A and cashed in our free ice cream coupons from our library’s reading program.

(And, in case you’re wondering, I have not taken the kids back into the library since our incident with Andy.  We’ve just filled in the reading logs and stepped in the library doors long enough to recover our prizes and get the mess out of dodge.)

Anyway, by the time all five kids excitedly presented their coupons, we were soaking wet and shivering.

The cashier handed us enormous, full-sized ice cream cups.  Not the regular kid-sized cones.

The kids were joyous.

Thrilled.

Couldn’t believe their good fortune.

Particularly Otto Fox.

We had such a jolly time together – sitting on the bench seat, shivering and shoveling ice cream down our throats.

Berg told us about the trash can that he has in his mind for all the things he no longer cares for or items he wishes to no longer see.

Fox discovered he could get a quick laugh from us if he pretended to have a brain freeze every thirty seconds.

(His pretending involved a backwards hand resting on his forehead for about eight seconds and then a quick salute of sorts and a gargantuan grin.)

On our way back out to the car Berg was scooting along impossibly fast, per usual, and he slid across the pavement on his rear.

He hopped up with his standard, “I’m okay!”  and then a laugh and a “Now I’ve got a wet leg.”

Which he did.

As we buckled, Mosely – with ice cream cup mostly full and still in hand – asked, “So – what’s for dinner?”

And, finally, on the way home,

Piper Finn composed an original score that she repeated over and over.

At one point I held my camera toward the backseat and recorded as best I could under the circumstances.

And this is what I got:

Untitled from Lacey Keigley on Vimeo.

 

Unfortunately, it’s a little hard to hear but mostly she says a few lines about being a biting cat that no one wants to touch.

Oh – and that she misses Bosco and she misses Magnus and that Kipling was run over by a car.

It’s a little mix of morbid and upbeat at the same time.

The evening was simple and the savings were amazing.

But mostly – it was just another night to add to the ever-growing memories we are collecting as a family.

5 Comments

  • seriousbethy

    seriously Lacey, you severely encourage yet put me to shame when I read about events like this. I am constantly amazed at the grace in your life-the patience and selfless enjoyment you find in your children. I spend so much time stressing over the messes, the noise and the inconvenience, that I deprive both them and myself of potentially wonderful memories. Trying to make more days “yes” days. Trying to not freak out as Eliot laps up the puddle on the back porch. Maybe he needs a drink.

    Anyway, thank you for demonstrating this for us and for sharing it.

    • LaceyKeigley

      Well.
      First – thank you.
      Although I am certain I am not worthy of such praise as I am sure that I still spoke too harshly at some point (probably during that same very night) to one of my children and that I still miss about a million moments because I don't care for mess much either.