Friday, November 30, 2012

Out of my Mind

Le week prior to le Finals.

When everyone dies in a flurry of study guides, paper cuts and tears.

Except me.

I've been screwing around on Facebook and writing blog posts (most of which I haven't posted. You are WELCOME).

Hey. Those are my two loves. Well, besides my kids, but I kinda felt like that went without saying.

Sometimes those mindless interweb moments are completely necessary. Sometimes we get up in the morning, walk the herd of neighborhood elementary girls to school, come home to find that our middle schooler has YET AGAIN missed his bus because playing fetch with the cat seemed like a better idea than brushing his teeth, so we drive him to school while lecturing the importance of punctuality.

And then we rush off to an appointment involving absolute REAMS of paperwork, swearing and math, and then we rush back home to grab books so we aren't late to class, only we forget what day it is for a sec because we've been rushing around all morning and we show up to the right class with the wrong books, and later in the day we don't have anything for the 3-hour class. So we sit there with a dumb smile on our face while our instructor narrows her eyes at us and asks why we are unprepared.

We consider informing the instructor that we should band together as redheads and take over the world, but luckily we realize that our children's constant comments about Gingers are affecting our brain, and just in time we change the previous comment to simply excuse ourselves from this day of craziness. We take a sec to play around in Photoshop until we realize how much our desire to own the program has turned into pure hatred of all things Shop and then we sneakily write death notes to Adobe on the back of one of our assignment sheets only we can't actually mail them for two reasons: 1] Because we don't even know where Adobe is located and 2] we never buy stamps because everything is done electronically. Plus we could go to jail for threatening. And also our name is on the front of that assignment sheet. I guess that's technically four.

Bliss would be coming home to three beautiful children greeting me with hugs and loving words of how much they missed me.

I said WOULD BE.

Instead I was greeted with a look of terror by one child (remind me to ask him what he was doing in order to react that way), complete silent treatment by the middle kid, and a glare from the littlest one.

Yay.

At least I came home to the right house with the right kids.
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