The No Good Day

Yesterday I had one of those days when you want Superman to fly earth really fast, so it spins backwards and we go back in time, to start all over again.

The day started off with everyone being a little tired and cross from the hour of sleep that was lost on Saturday night.  Getting Doodlebug out of bed and dressed for school was more of a chore than it normally is, and seeing that for some reason lately she has reverted back to grasping my leg and crying as I try to leave her at school, that portion of the morning was about as fun as sitting in a dental chair.

It's safe to say that our boy is doing his part to keep the legend of "terrible twos" going strong for all you new and future parents.  He is a mess, not a hot fierce mess, just a daredevil goofball, that has a bad case of cabin fever, mess.  So when we stopped at the store and then on to the post office, he proceeded to let every Joe & Jane Public know that he has been couped up at home for the majority of the winter and has completely forgot how to act while out and about.  This part I can get over and I think will pass eventually, or we can do like I suggested to his grandmother, pack him up in a box and ship him to live with them.

Then came the lunch hour, which the following happened all in a matter of five minutes.  I was getting some jellied pork fat (don't ask) ready to go out to the trash, when the substance slipped out as I was putting it into a jar and it dumped all over the stove.  As I was cleaning that up and trying to get the children fed, I pulled our oatmeal (it was an oatmeal lunch kind of day) from the microwave only to realize the boy had crawled up behind me in a prone position on the floor, so I could trip over him.  As to not fall and kill him, I caught myself with one hand on the counter-top, only to leave the other hand on the bowl of oatmeal.  Of course, while losing my balance and having the silly child's safety in mind, my grip on the bowl was lost and so was the oatmeal, all over the front of the bottom cabinets and my leg.  It was hot and I wear shorts all the time, so I literally bit my tongue to stop from shouting out profane things that end with an exclamation point.  So to make sure everyone is with me...I've got jellied pork fat all over the stove, hot oatmeal burning the first layer of skin off my right shin and seeping into the piano hinge on the big cabinet door, as well as other cabinet doors, and a goofy two year old dunce boy looking up telling me, "I'm swimming!  Look daddy, I'm swimming!".  Oh, I'm not done yet.  The daughter is asking me when lunch will be ready and all I want to do is get them to the table to eat, so I can get back to cleaning.  I go to grab a couple more packs of oatmeal out of the pantry and somehow a can of soda gets knocked from the top shelf and as I try to catch it on it's way down, a hole is punctured in it, just small enough to spray diet root beer all over everything in the pantry and onto the floor.  Good times.  I sat there thinking to myself, when the remake of the film Mr. Mom comes out, remember you saw this scene here first.  I mean of course, I have no idea what I'm doing here right.

So the kids get fed, I spend the next hour cleaning up the kitchen and I'm ready for a smoke break.  I've never smoked anything in my life, but I use that reference as to all those people I worked with in the past that got to go take a break because they smoked, but yet if I was sitting around doing nothing I was questioned as to what I was doing.  So when I need a moment..."I'm on a smoke break".

Both kids are beat, from playing in the snow and just in general from the weekend that would never end, because of the snow.  So they go to their rooms to rest.  I take the time to unwind a moment, but twenty minutes into that, I hear a huge crash from The Little Man's room.  I open the door to find him nude in his crib and his entire bookshelf turned over on the ground.  Awesome.  So needless to say, there was no rest for any of us and we proceeded to get on one another's nerves the rest of the day waiting for The Lady to get home from work.

To put a little icing on the cake, the wife hands me my cell phone and asked why I have a random text message saying something to the notion of "I saw your profile online, look at mine and let's chat".  So I've got the one raised eyebrow because of that for a few hours.  I get wrong numbers and odd text on my cell phone here, more so then I ever did in Chicago.  The text was from Laverne.  Honey, I really dig you too, I love the letter L thing you have going on every sweater you wear, but I've always kind of been into Shirley.  I looked into the text I got on my phone and Google it, to find out that I'm not the only person getting it.  There are a couple of threads out there that talk about the same message, it ends up it's just random solicitation.  Wonderful.

Good grief, I needed someone to tell me I was skinny and pretty.  Once the day was finally coming to an end, I took my fat, ugly self down into the basement and watched men cutting down trees in the Oregon forests.  At least it was in HD.

Comments

[Brad]

Excellent. You should submit that to the local newspaper, you might be able to get a column or something. I'm serious.

[Greg Barbera]

i call it a daylight savings hangover

[Susan]

I got one of those texts, too. I spent 45 minutes on the phone with AT&T yesterday trying to get them to tell me how to block that stuff - of course, with no results and no suggestions as to how I can keep my dimes in my own pocket, instead of sending them to AT&T for unsolicited text messages. The killer was that at the end of the call, the customer service rep goes back into her auto-pilot mode and says, "Thank you for calling AT&T. Did I handle all of your concerns today?" Whatever!

[Loren]

I felt the pain with every keystroke. But I couldn't help but laugh and say "Oh no!" every few seconds! Sorry, and thanks ;)

[JonMcP]

Thanks for sharing your day. I feel your pain, but even more so needed that good laugh right now.