I spend the better part of the morning being the room parent for Meg's preschool class. I should mention that it is doily noted that I said room parent and not room mother, because it is 2009 here and yes, yes we do have fathers in the room from time to time.
Back to the story, morning in Meg's class, came home EXHAUSTED, relaxed to find only depressing stuff in my reader. I spent the next half hour crying, then looked down with my tear soaked eyes to find that Meg had eaten all my lunch while I was being a blubbering, sobbery idiot. Rolled my eyes and hoped to find something funny to read.
I could write something for you all, but I am sick.
Which is a good excuse I hope. Runny nose and congestion takes something out of you. I have no words in my head, no thought-provoking things to say. I can't tap-dance for you. Being entertaining is out of the question. Fact is I have no clue why I am even writing this now, it has got to be the most boring thing to read.
Your still here? Can't look away from this train wreck of a post.
Okay. What to say??
Why is it that when I am sick my husband is miraculously sick too?
Why can't I just be sick?
He is like a giant glory hog. It is not often that I have an excuse to lay done in the middle of the day and do nothing. I won't leave dishes in the sink just cause. If there is dishes in the sink it is because I need to rest and shiz. Fricker.
It is kinda fun being all horse and laryngitis-y. People call on the phone and I kinda freak them out.
Did they enter some time, space, phone continuum and instead of getting the loving woman, wife, mother that is me they get some $2 a minute phone sex operator. Just for fun I might answer the phone "Hello big, boy take off your pants so I can whip your naughty ass."
Sadly I am too chicken-shit to ever do that.
Okay serious now I have to nap-