Do you know what’s not going to happen tonight?
A blog post worth it’s salt in this world. That’s what’s not going to happen. It’s because I’m typing this here at my desk, and Thing 2 is clutching my leg, screaming about how his coffee cup is empty.
Yes. Apparently he’s old enough to drink coffee now. Or the real answer might be that he has found himself a little metal espresso cup with a handle in the bowels of a kitchen cupboard that he insists on digging through, and now he’s convinced that he needs to drink out of it on a regular basis.
And by regular basis, Thing 2 means FILL IT WITH WATER EVERY NINETEEN SECONDS, ALL DAY LONG, OR I SWEAR I’LL UNLEASH A SCREAM THAT MAKES BANSHEES LOOK DOMESTICATED!
More on the coffee cup tomorrow night.
It has a story.
You might want to eat your dinner early tomorrow, because the story is one that should be bathed in Clorox, and I just worry that maybe you won’t want to face your plate of Hamburger Helper if you read the story first.
And now I have to go put some water in this espresso cup, so that my wailing monkey boy can have a drink of water before he dehydrates. It has been ninety seconds since his last drink.
And then I need to put him in the bathtub because three days at the park makes a boy dirty.
Y’all have a very happy Sunday evening.