Sunday, November 2, 2014

Again...

I am trying to come up with a magic pill that I think parents through the times have tried to invent. Most people have their methods and I have yet to develop an effective one for myself. I must ask you, three readers, this haunting question: why stuff dirty clothes into a bag and that bag into another bag and then that bag into a backpack and stuff said backpack into the corner of the closet under a rack? Why not just take said clothes and put them right into the laundry basket? Why? For the love of everything, why?? So when the hub and the children left after church and went a couple of towns away for the championship soccer game, I took the time with an empty house to get to the root of some of this insanity. I had already done a fair amount of laundry and had one load left in the dungeon to do. After spending time in one of the rooms, I had already filled a laundry basket and was thinking about finding another one. I found enough hangers for a small consignment sale and enough pins and rubber bands to open a mini Sally Beauty Supply. Words were said, friends. I'm not going to lie. Words were said. Bad, evil, non-Sunday words. I'm not proud, but I will air my confession on the very public and read by a trio of loyal readers blog. When I found the hidden stash of Three Musketeer mini-bites in someone's bed, I had to sit down and watch an episode of "Homeland". Kidnapping and murder and international espionage in the Middle East brought comfort to this mother who almost tore at her clothes and screamed down the street at the bug potential attached to chocolate candy between one's warm and comfy sheets.

I am now watching "Criminal Minds", but(oddly enough)not sewing any creatures. I am working on chore charts that, when presented to the population in question, will surely catapult me to the tip top of the leader board for mother of the year. Oh well. A new "Homeland" comes on at 9 tonight. I will rest in the solace...even though I fear my bleoved Saul is not long for this world. Oh well. Another fight for another day.


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