robert's out there again. this is the second time i've seen him set up a sprinkler recently to water the grass in the courtyard between my building and his. it's funny because we have an automated sprinkler system. it's not funny because we have an automated sprinkler system.
oliver would have fun playing water games in it. i would not have fun playing non-water games in its aftermath.
last night, at 10 'til midnight, brian woke me while from sleeping on the couch so i could brush my teeth and go to bed. i'd barely opened my eyes when he asked: "is our anniversary tomorrow?" my head frowned and i said, "no, it was today."
my head wasn't frowning because i had spent an entire day miserable over the fact he hadn't remembered our anniversary. it was because we had both forgotten our anniversary. even after reminding ourselves just days prior not to forget.
our anniversaries have officially spiraled down to almost nothing. the first year, we were broken up.
the second year, we had a three week old baby at home while we escaped to dinner at reunion tower.
last year, we knew we were beat and decided to roll with the punches being thrown by our declining social life by taking oliver and dinner from mango to the park on lovers lane (the lovers lane part was incidental). this didn't happen until the day after because brian had managed to get tickets to see cyndi lauper with some friends while i babysat. so, technically, we dined with them at the bangkok inn and then he jetted (the bangkok inn part was incidental).
now this. 10 minutes of "oh, so it's our anniversary. i think."
my poor, little mind was too overwhelmed with the birthday party and going out and darren's upcoming birthday and going out and appointments and florida. our anniversary keep getting lost in the shuffle.
we celebrated the occasion, apparently, by waiting over an hour to see the gynecologist (well, brian left before the appointment actually began since oliver was intent on being toddler concentrate). we commemorated our love over potato soup that was half homemade and half from a tetrapak. there wasn't much conversation because oliver had exploded moments prior to sitting down at the table, either because i wouldn't launch another episode of blue's clues or because he has decided to hate potato soup. or both. we shoveled spoons into our mouths to the melodious strains of shrieks and sobs and tears forging paths down cheeks. it didn't end after dinner when brian dragged a limp oliver branch into his room to play trains. it didn't stop while we both sat on his bed making small talk. it didn't stop until i pulled out the fisher price circus and then it was parlor games of balancing plastic animals on plastic ladders and trapezes.
i spent the hours of 8-10pm trying to get him to fall asleep. it was that toddler paradox where you think being intensely crazy will make them sleep like a rock, but it has the opposite effect instead.
i haven't mentioned this before, but when oliver is deeply excited about a show on the tv, like blue's clues, he looks like ian curtis dancing. i hope that's not a bad sign.