My husband had a pretty bad day a while back, and now it's bit me in the behind, too.
You know it's a test of self-control when:
your oldest son has started night-coughing, again, seemingly without ceasing, for what feels like the thirty-first day in a row, only this time he coughs so hard that his gordita supper lands on his (why?) stupid, organic, cannot be machine-washed or dry cleaned, or anything other than spot-washed for that matter, comforter that, of course, was free but would cost hundreds of dollars to replace, and it is raining outside so I cannot hang it out, along with his Buckley's that obviously now is not going to have the desired effect on his coughing that is still going on at 4 am.
My husband woke up, finally, at the sweet hour of 8 am, not even close to 6:15 am, precisely half an hour after the work day begins for him, approximately twenty minutes from his office. My loving response, in my haze? "are you going to get fired?" His eyes were almost as big as his hair (move over Bob Ross).
I came downstairs to call my parents and ask them how to clean the dumb cannot be cleaned by any means comforter because they have one too, and they even were the ones who gave me the cursed thing in the first place, and that was when cat number two stunk up the whole lower level doing his thing in the litter box, except when I turned to look, he had actually done his thing all up the side of the wall, the water meter box, and the floor.
did I mention that today is also "regular" laundry day?
I think homeschool today is going to be a little heavy on the home.