Monday, oh, what a Monday.
Unfortunately it’s on a Tuesday!
I awoke this morning without an alarm clock because my stupid new phone didn’t work. I just cannot find any redeeming qualities in my new telephone, especially at 6:15 am. In fact I cannot find any redeeming qualities in anything besides my pillow at 6:15 am. I trudged downstairs waking up FringeKid on my way. My head was filled with so much pressure I feared it might explode before my coffee finished brewing.
My coffee never brewed.
The lid to the pot slipped off just enough for the water to stop dripping, completely filling the filter, and spilling over onto the counter. Approximately 4 ounces of thick with grounds were drinkable.
FringeBoy just started the shower when my daughter came down, dressed but rubbing goobers from eyes. She started a dance we have all come to hate in our home. It’s the “H-u-r-r-y, I can’t hold for another second because I need to pee” dance. I proceeded to open the bathroom door while yelling in to FringeBoy to make it a quick one.
“What?” He yelled back. “I can’t hear you.”
Cringing at my own voice echoing through my pulsating head, I screamed “Be Quick, Your Sister HAS To Potty!”
“What did you say?” Came his response for a second time.
I inhaled slowly, looked to my daughter who was dancing in fast forward, tears threatening, and then I broke the sound barrier.
“GET OUT OF THE SHOWER BEFORE YOUR SISTER PEES ON THE KITCHEN FLOOR!”
He heard. My neighbors heard. The next county heard.
I slugged a spoonful of grounds.
The dog cried.
Am I the only person in my family with a good bladder? I’ve birthed two large children who sat directly on my bladder for a year and a half cumulatively and I can hold it longer than everyone!
Just as I was about to walk out the door, I noticed a white substance on my jeans. It could only be two things – toothpaste or drywall mud.
I didn’t have time to taste it, so I did what all self-respecting women do. I took off my sweatshirt and tied it around my waste.
We commenced to walk to school, because I have decided to take a stand against obesity (in myself) and walk my children back and forth to school each day. It started when the bus company canceled service to our road. Parents fought long and hard. The bus returned, but my ‘pie in the sky’ world view prevailed and I decided it was good, and right, and healthy for my children to walk to school. The thought of frigid temperatures actually lifts my spirits with the promise of accelerated fat consumption. You do, after all, expend more energy in the winter, thus burning more calories.
The hills kicked my butt and I collapsed in heap when I walked back in the front door. FringeMan looked toward me and said, “You wanna come to work with me today?”
I will spare you the details, but thankfully my main job consisted of watching the vehicle and the ladder. In some neighborhoods that is necessary. The toothpaste or drywall mud, whichever it may be, is still on my jeans.
The dog ran away as a closing act of the day, but FringeMan caught her and carried her home on his back for a mile.