What Happens After

Today we returned from ten days in DC.  We woke up at 4:40AM and were in the car driving to the airport by 5.  Now it is 4:15 PM California time and the day is still g-o-i-n-g.  We've settled in, opened mail, poured over Christmas cards, sat outside in the sun, talked through the story of Frankenstein (thank you school Halloween art projects), which despite having taught for several years, I still had to reference to remember the ending -!.  We've played at the park, visited some friends there, and lastly shopped at Trader Joe's to fill the empty refrigerator.  Silas, who apparently lost one shoe at the park and thus had to sit in the cart the entire time with all the cold food, was moved simply to make loud noises the whole time we shopped.  At one point I called to him from the wine tasting booth to please let me and these other people stand in this quiet happy place for two minutes. I don't do well after many nights of too little sleep.  Trader Joe's was a little crowded and there were definitely people near me when I told Silas there would be consequences if he made another noise.  What consequences?  Probably, off with his head (first thing I thought of).  Off with my head!  A long silence, and then as I rifled through the bags of spinach, a quiet voice from the cart: I'm scared.  You said you would cut my head off.  I know you'd never do that but you said you were going to.  Why did you say that?  Oh brother.  Then some other shoppers heard me say, you won't eat dessert tonight, or probably again this week, a natural consequence for nothing that was happening.  And pushing my cart with my legs as I tried to yank screaming Eden out of the cart basket for throwing the bag of spinach AGAIN (because her nerves, too, are a bit exposed, and I was gripping her), I looked up to find that I knew the check out guy, who is THE kindest most upbeat man ever.  Great.  He immediately doled out stickers until both kids stopped crying/whining/making noises and somehow made me smile and release the surface-y rage of impatience.  Now we are home, and I'm thinking I should drive back to the park to find the missing shoe.  But my body wants sleep, or at least a chair.  And again, it's only 4:30 in the afternoon.  This is a long one.