So, NOT the best day I have ever had. I can definitely think of funner. McKenna called me to pick her up from school saying that her throat hurt. Oh, I think I forgot to mention the part where I got Maren settled in front of the TV and me in a nice warm bath with a really good book. Then the phone rang.
The mail came. So I asked McKenna if she wanted to get it. Maren ran screaming to the garage, saying she wanted to. We thought she was maybe grabbing her shoes, so McKenna and I waited by the front door for too long thinking Maren would be right back. Somewhere in the get the mail part, Maren heard MILK. So, we are at the front door while my four year old is trying to get a gallon of milk off the top shelf of the fridge in the garage. Have you ever wondered how many rolls of paper towels it takes to clean up a shattered gallon of milk on a garage floor? 2, two, dos, da no matter how you spell it or pronounce it, it takes two. I prefer Bounty Select-a-Size, but in this case you select the whole size, yip the hole roll times two. Did I mention the great radius of the splatter? Quite fascinating actually.
The day was topped by a twelve year old tantrum of not wanting to take piano lessons anymore. "It is not fair that Dad makes me take piano, even if I hate it, all because his parents let him quite and he wished they wouldn't have let him." How do you argue with that argument? You don't. You let the Dad take over after you fire yourself the instant he walks through the door. Try it sometime. It's quite freeing. For two minutes.
Pictures? If you think for two second I took pictures, your sadly mistaken. This was not one of my best days. I think we were all crying over spilled milk. Nope, no pictures here.
I hope to be laughing about this tomorrow. I know all of you will be. Huh Rachel?
