Seriously....someone in the universe hates me

Or, at least it felt like it today. I don't really believe in that stuff of course, but the events of the morning today nearly convinced me otherwise.....

From inside, it looked like an absolutely beautiful day today. I had some errands to run--"A great day to do it", I thought to myself. The sun was shining, and I thought--"I'll just do my few errands and take the kids to their favorite park" (which just happens to be about 25 minutes or so from our house--we don't usually go there because it is so far, but since my errands were in that general area, it was a great excuse to surprise the boys).

I got the boys dressed in short sleeves and pants, fed them breakfast, tidied up the house a bit, and then we were ready to go.

We opened the front door and were met with a less-than-cool breeze.

I would consider "chilly" to be slightly warmer than accurate. It was almost downright cold.

Ugh. From low 80's to cold in 2 days. Yuck.

So, we all four put on heavy, warm hoodies and were on our way again.

Or, almost on our way.

I got the boys all loaded into the car, got in my seat, and turned the key.

Nothing.

The van was dead. "Oh, great."

But, actually, this particular problem was solved fairly easily. I grabbed my phone, pulled our Explorer up next to the van, pulled out our jumper cables, and had Shane walk me through the how-to of jumping the van over the phone. Shane was nervous on the other end, I could tell. I am not a mechanically minded person, and the sparks and all that were kind of scary....but I got through it, jumped my very first vehicle all by myself (although, when I said that out loud to the boys in the car, Colin gently reminded me that Daddy had actually helped me over the phone, so it wasn't really all by myself), and we now really were on our way.

I got my errands done pretty quickly, and then started to head up north where the park was. Colin, who misses nothing, asked me where I was going--I told him it was a surprise, and then we played a little guessing game the rest of the way to the park.

When I got to the street it was on, Colin knew right away. "The Lane park!" he exclaimed.

"YEP!" I said.

Insert shrieking, hooting, and hollering from all three boys here.

We pulled in, parked, and suddenly I noticed something. All the park equipment was shiny--really shiny.

Oh, no. No, no, no. The equipment was wet.

I got out of the car to examine how wet the playground was. The verdict? Soaked. I mean, puddles on the slide that were the size of Ethan himself. And the swings....well, just forget about it. They were in a lake all their own. I began to rack my brain trying to think of what in the world I had in the car that I could dry the equipment with; we came all this way and by George, my kids were going to play.....

.....but I came up with nothing.

I got back in the car and began to explain. I just felt terrible.

"I'm sorry...." "It's soaking wet...." "Mommy has nothing to dry it off with...." "We'll have to come back another day...."

Insert three dejected and tear-filled faces here.

However, as we were leaving, I came across two official-looking people who were cleaning up the park. I decided to take a shot.

"Do you by chance have anything that I could use to dry off the park equipment?" (Extra-large heavy-duty chamois, or 12 towels, maybe?)

I couldn't believe it. He said he did, and handed me three dirty, stained, disgusting-looking, old stinky shop towels perfectly wonderful small dry towels that I could use to dry off the slides.

I explained to the boys that we could stay and play after all, because of this nice man's help! They were, needless to say, very excited. (Insert the cheering again here.)

So, we got back out, and I started the drying process while the boys waited patiently, watching me. The towels were about as absorbent as you would think, and it took me forever, but I finally got things....well, not dry, but dry enough so that the boys wouldn't soak themselves completely when they came down.

In case you have already forgotten, let me remind you about the day being cold. I would say, it was approximately 50 degrees, and windy was putting it mildly--it was downright blustery. My now soaking wet hands were freezing and beginning to turn purple and become numb.

Ah, the sacrifices we make for our children.

Their laughter and shouts of glee as they shot down the slides made the numbness worthwhile. Well....it helped, anyway.

Okay. Time to rest, and for a bit of peace while they played.

I was shaking from the cold sitting on a bench nearby with the hood of my jacket UP, watching the boys play, when I felt something in my hair.

The leaves were blowing everywhere--I figured I had a leaf under there, so I reached in, grabbed the object, and pulled it out.

Then, I looked down at it.

It was a BEE.

And,

it stung me.

"AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!" I yelped.

All three boys paused and looked over at me. You know how you can tell the differences in cries that your children make? Apparently, they can tell the same of us, 'cause all three of them knew Mommy was NOT joking around.

"Are you okay, Mommy?" Colin said.

"Ow, ow, ow!!"

"Mommy!?" repeated Colin, a little more anxious this time.

As calmly as I was able, I replied, "I'm okay, Colin, I just got stung by a bee."

Well, of course, all the boys had to come over and see the bee, talk about where the bee had gone to (we couldn't find that thing anywhere--I flung it pretty good once I discovered what it was, I guess--a little too late, unfortunately), discuss whether or not the bee was dead or not (we decided that it for sure had died after stinging me), and then they took turns giving my now-not-so-numb finger kisses to help the burning go away.

And then, the sympathy was over.

The next order of the day?

Play a game, I suppose in my honor, called, "I'm going to sting you or you're going to sting me," which consisted of deciding who was going to be the "sting-er" and who was going to be the "person-fleeing-from-the-bee-in-order-not-to-be-stung--a.k.a. the sting-ee."

At least I inspired some creativity. Some kids just call that tag. Mine called it "the stinging game."

So, all the bee hullabaloo finally died down, the boys were playing again, and, well, now I actually could finally relax.

As I am sitting on the bench, watching the cute little squirrels chasing each other, trying not to drown my sorrows, I heard a cracking noise.

Those 'cute little squirrels' were now above me, plotting against me doing something. I couldn't tell exactly what it was.

And then....

....two GIANT acorns from the oak tree above me fell and hit me square on the head.

Isn't that just the kicker? I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.

Now you see why I titled this post what I did.

WHAT ON EARTH?!?