Friday the 13th knew that, and saved it for today. Thursday the 19th seems to do just as well.
______________________________________________________
So I'm sitting at the table in my nightgown eating my egg and poking around on the internet, when
I hear a tapping on my front door.
??
It's not even 9am yet. Who could it be?
Why, it's the contractor and some other dude. The electrician. Contractor says he told John they were coming.
Okay.
Hello, I'm in my nightgown. My NURSING nightgown. And I don't wear a stitch of clothing under my nightgown.
Come on in, men who may or may not be getting an eyefull.
I scurry off to the bedroom to put on clothes. Call John on speaker phone and thank him for the warning.
He swears he didn't know.
Pixie is in her crib crying while I'm running around, so I grab her and notice she has a wet diaper.
So I put her on the floor and whip her diaper off.
On the floor, you see, because her changing table is piled high with her clothes because she plays in
her drawers, trying everything on, and I haven't put it all back yet.
Guess what? Surprise poop!
Not formed toddler poop, either. Peanut butter poop designed especially to leave a great brown smear on my bedroom floor.
The bedroom floor that the electrician will be seeing soon, because the breaker box is in our bedroom.
And also all of the laundry and things piled around because I've been slacking on housey things while I do other things.
So I go to grab the wipes. No dice. They're out in the diaper bag. The cloth wipes are all dry.
Toss her in the tub and wipe off as much as I can with toilet paper before running out to grab the wipes from the diaper bag.
Wipe her off and start the tub running at a trickle because she's highly insulted and crying.
Run out to the kitchen to grab a glass to mix a little Dr. Bonner's so I can clean the poop of my carpet.
At this point, the contractor is trying to talk to me. Whatever man. Hear the crying baby? Go away.
I get the Dr. B, check on Pixie, give her toys, leave her in the tub because she's not exactly sanitary.
Dump soap on rug, go soap up Pixie, go scrub rug. (Pixie can be seen from rug stain with a little leaning.)
Also pile laundry onto bed so it looks like I meant it to be that way.
Now I'm hiding here sitting on the toilet. There's an electrician here somewhere. I hear him skulking around.
Pixie is playing in the tub, but I hear the microwave beeping at me to remind me the butter I was softening is waiting for me.
Because I was making muffins before all this started.
*sigh*
Time to get back on the horse.
I hear a tapping on my front door.
??
It's not even 9am yet. Who could it be?
Why, it's the contractor and some other dude. The electrician. Contractor says he told John they were coming.
Okay.
Hello, I'm in my nightgown. My NURSING nightgown. And I don't wear a stitch of clothing under my nightgown.
Come on in, men who may or may not be getting an eyefull.
I scurry off to the bedroom to put on clothes. Call John on speaker phone and thank him for the warning.
He swears he didn't know.
Pixie is in her crib crying while I'm running around, so I grab her and notice she has a wet diaper.
So I put her on the floor and whip her diaper off.
On the floor, you see, because her changing table is piled high with her clothes because she plays in
her drawers, trying everything on, and I haven't put it all back yet.
Guess what? Surprise poop!
Not formed toddler poop, either. Peanut butter poop designed especially to leave a great brown smear on my bedroom floor.
The bedroom floor that the electrician will be seeing soon, because the breaker box is in our bedroom.
And also all of the laundry and things piled around because I've been slacking on housey things while I do other things.
So I go to grab the wipes. No dice. They're out in the diaper bag. The cloth wipes are all dry.
Toss her in the tub and wipe off as much as I can with toilet paper before running out to grab the wipes from the diaper bag.
Wipe her off and start the tub running at a trickle because she's highly insulted and crying.
Run out to the kitchen to grab a glass to mix a little Dr. Bonner's so I can clean the poop of my carpet.
At this point, the contractor is trying to talk to me. Whatever man. Hear the crying baby? Go away.
I get the Dr. B, check on Pixie, give her toys, leave her in the tub because she's not exactly sanitary.
Dump soap on rug, go soap up Pixie, go scrub rug. (Pixie can be seen from rug stain with a little leaning.)
Also pile laundry onto bed so it looks like I meant it to be that way.
Now I'm hiding here sitting on the toilet. There's an electrician here somewhere. I hear him skulking around.
Pixie is playing in the tub, but I hear the microwave beeping at me to remind me the butter I was softening is waiting for me.
Because I was making muffins before all this started.
*sigh*
Time to get back on the horse.
1 comment:
Wow. This is hilarious!!! (I'm visiting from Triangle Mommies) Sorry for the tough day.
Post a Comment