| It’s looking like one of those days again. You know what I mean. The kind where you wake up, don’t move for a few minutes in hopes you dreamt the alarm clock went off. When you finally come out of your denial, you stupidly agree to allow your oldest son to go use your bathroom to shower instead of the other, only to find that he didn’t close the shower door. After cleaning Lake Erie out of your bathroom, you head downstairs to find that your children have decided to be even more helpful—they’ve “made” themselves breakfast. After sweeping all the apple jacks off the floor you turn around and force a lovely smile onto your face. Pushing thoughts of quitting your position as mommy, you go to get your sons' jackets out of the dryer only to find they are still damp. You put your forehead against the nearest wall and vague memories of commercials for bath salts that can “take you away” run through your head. While that would be wonderful, you realize you aren’t permitted to bathe anymore—only showers are acceptable. No taking an actual bath leaves you vulnerable to the endless knocking on the bathroom door, little fingers pushing books, paper, and just about anything else they can find under the door to make sure you’re still alive and haven’t forgotten them in the thirty seconds you’ve been in there. Once that passes you turn to find that you’ve not brought your own shampoo/conditioner in with you and you have no razor. After using the wonderful “bubble gum” scented 2 in 1 shampoo that’s available you not only hate the way you smell but you also know that there will be NO brush strong enough to get through the snarls that said product has left you with. Since you are well aware of the above dangers in taking a “soothing” bath, you forget that idea, lift your head off the wall and take a good look at your laundry room floor. Having found out the day before that the child who shares a locker with your youngest son at preschool has head lice, you being a neurotic nutcase with germ issues, stupidly ripped your house apart, treated your sons’ (yes plural) for head lice which the school nurse said they did NOT have and then proceeded to shave the youngest ones hair (who had a shag cut prior to that). As you stand there and know that you most likely overreacted, you still think that you should probably vacuum the entire house top to bottom just one more time to be sure. After you’re done doing that, you know that you have to come back and finish washing EVERY SINGLE article of clothing in your home since it was a case of “if you give a mommy a shirt that was in the same room as another one, she’s going to want to wash that one as well.” You go ahead and toss another load of laundry in before grabbing the vacuum and replacing the bag that was brand new yesterday but you were afraid may contain a crawly critter into the trash OUTSIDE. You do a full two level sweep before deciding to wait to do the upstairs until your youngest is up and about. When you shut the vacuum off you hear him in his room singing OFFSPRING songs as best he can. GREAT, you’ve just woken him up. Since he’s up, you take the vacuum up there and finish what you started. By this point, you know that by 10 A.M. you’ll not only be able to smell yourself, but possibly take out small children standing in a four foot radius due to your “pleasant” odor. As appealing as this sounds, you know that if you go with plan-A someone you know will undoubtedly drop by to see you. Shaking your head, you get the youngest and take him downstairs to give him some breakfast. He sees his other brother with apple jacks and screams for some. Problem is—they were dumped on the floor. For one brief moment you lose your mind, glance at the trash and think “Well, he does lick the dog daily.” After you almost vomit on your own thoughts, you get him to agree to a pop-tart. The other brother clamors for one as well. Having little to no patience left by this point, you simply growl. They run away. Smiling at how easy it is to chase little people off, you grab a coffee cup and go to pour a cup. Finding that you didn’t make it yet you weave a web of obscenities that should be recorded in the genius book of world records. Calming down, you start a pot and walk away. Turning on your computer you launch outlook to allow it to slam you with emails. Needing files from your husband’s computer to get work done, you access his computer through the home network to begin the file transfer process. It says it will take an hour. Knowing Microsoft, it will take two. You shout out to your HUBBY who has been squirreled away in his office since he jumped out of the shower doing God only knows what, that you are grabbing files from his hard drive. You point out it will take an hour. You head out, pour a cup of coffee and check on boys. Everyone has their teeth brushed and are ready to go for the day. Happy that went smoothly you go down to check how many emails came over night. After you pick your jaw up off the floor, you sit to answer what you can in ten minutes. While answering emails the window that indicates the transfer of files progress stops…a message telling you that connection to server was cut pops up. As the smoke pillows out of your ears, you glare at the staircase knowing that your husband will fell it and be very scared. You then think you’ll speed the terrifying him up a bit. Yelling that the file transfer you told him about twenty minutes ago….the one that you pointed out would take an HOUR, just bit it. He says, “Oh, shit…sorry, I shut it down.” He runs upstairs, grabs his keys, wallet, etc and attempts to kiss you goodbye before leaving for work. The lovely look on your face must tell him something because it’s the quickest kiss you’ve ever gotten. You turn back to gripe to the boards about your morning. As you finish up your email, you reach for your cup of coffee which is now ICE COLD and toss a white flag up. Yep, its one of those days.
|
