The fact that I am blessed with decent health, a pretty great husband and two healthy wonderful daughters is not lost on me. I am grateful. Very grateful.
But I’d be lying if I said there weren’t days when it’s all I can do not to carry the lot of them to the curb, stick a “FOR SALE, ALL REASONABLE OFFERS CONSIDERED” sign in their mouths and call it a day.
Case in point:
Are you guys just messing with me? Making me salivate needlessly over a snack that isn’t really there? Trying to psyche me out or what? Do you really want to come home to a mommy who has not had her chocolate fix? Well, do you? I didn’t think so.
What’s that, Nate? You want a ginger ale? Sure, I’ll get one for you. Oh my goodness, looks like we’re all out. Huh. That’s weird. I mean, the box is in there, but there’s nothing in it. You’re the only one that drinks that stuff in this house and I know I saw you drinking one yesterday. Huh.
Mom, where are my earrings? The ones I got for my birthday? I LOVE THOSE EARRINGS. They were on my dresser and now they’re not. Now what am I going to do? I HAVE NOTHING TO WEAR. Helena, did you go in my room? Did you take my earrings? STAY OUT OF MY ROOM. Mom, can I borrow your earrings? I DON’T HAVE ANY. (disclaimer: please ignore the dust. I do.)
I do not allow my kids to eat or drink in the living room. So maybe I should just be grateful they actually used a coaster for one of the cups but God forbid, not both. And yes, that is a toothpick. Hey kids, can you throw me that hay bale over there? That one, next to the horses. Oh, that’s right. WE DON’T HAVE A BARN AND THUS, YOU WERE NOT RAISED IN ONE. I am officially grossed out.
Coming soon to a laundry basket near me. Just to clarify, yes … that is a wadded-with-the-legs-rolled-up pair of jeans lying on my eldest daughter’s bedroom floor. And yes, that is her underwear sticking out of them and a sock stuck to the bottom of them. I don’t know how long she’s been working on the ability to undress in one fell swoop but apparently, it’s been time well spent.
Judging from this photo, I think my youngest has been studying at the feet of the master.
While we’re on the subject Helena, what possesses you to just drop trow in the living room? Am I the only civilized one in this house? And for all of you blessed with 20/20 vision … yes, that is a safety pin in my daughter’s waistband. I bet my mother is having a coronary at this very instant. No, I cannot sew. And contrary to urban legend, duct tape doesn’t fix everything. Moving on …
Mom, where’s my Nintendo?!? I need to take it to Natalee’s! Mom! Where is it? It was right here! Can you help me find it? I did check my room! All over it! I moved everything! I did! I really did! I promise! I’ve looked everywhere and it’s not there. Zoe, did you go into my room? Did you? STAY OUT OF MY ROOM. Mom, I’ve looked for a hundred thousand years and it’s not there. MOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM.
You’re killing me. Just killing me.