This is one of those nights when I can’t even invent something to write about.
Because does anyone want to hear about how I went to Walmart? Or how I did some laundry, without needing to rewash the load in the washer four times, because I actually just toughened up and remembered to put that load right into the dryer? Or how I had to say, “THIS is a NO CRY ZONE. If you want to cry, you must go to your bedroom to cry,” about thirty-seven times today?
For the record, it wasn’t Hubs who was doing all the crying.
Thing 2 was awake from 11 PM to 3 AM this morning. Hubs took that bullet and let me sleep, which is why Hubs is one of my favorite people. And even though Hubs went to work all day without whining about how HE DIDN’T ACTUALLY WANT THE BOWL OF OATMEAL HE ASKED YOU TO MAKE HIM FOR BREAKFAST, BECAUSE NOW HE WANTS A WAFFLE, BUT NO, HE DOESN’T REALLY WANT A WAFFLE, BECAUSE HE WANTS THAT OATMEAL, JUST WITH SOME PEARS DUMPED INTO IT, Thing 2 had a rough day.
We chalked it up to T-I-R-E-D.
Partying all night like you’re nineteen, when you’re only two, tends to amplify ALL THE CRANKY.
It also tends to amplify how many cups of coffee Hubs can drink in a morning.
Y’all have a happy Monday evening.