It's January. It's cold. We're all sick. Michael says his nose hurts from so many "bless yous." David's voice has dropped about three octaves, which simultaneously makes me want to laugh at him and make out with him. If only we could stop blowing our noses.
All of this is preferable to last week's barf-o-rama, mind you. I'm just saying, a three-month reprieve from all illnesses would be nice. Also a three-month reprieve from presidential debates and political commercials. I'm thinking it would be less painful to stick an ice pick in my brain than to endure nine more months of candidates fighting over who does the best version of Liar, Liar Pants on Fire.
So, in the midst of all this I'm decided to start potty training the twins. (Completely unrelated, but did you know you can buy a straight jacket on Amazon for $28.99?) They turn two years old tomorrow. Two two-year-olds. Yipes! I'm shaking in my furry snow boots. In celebration I emptied all of my drawers in the bathroom and decided to deadbolt the pantry after Matthew peed in there and I had to throw out half a bag of basmati rice and about six cups of sugar. Don't ask for details. You don't want them. Also, may I suggest not coming over for dinner? We still haven't been cleared by the health department.
Yesterday David came home from work and I must have been exuding an aura of "completely and totally frazzled" because the first thing he said was, "Do we need to go out to dinner today?" Between that observant comment and last week's mid-shower "If you hand me the bottle of Scrubbing Bubbles and a sponge, I'll clean the shower while I'm in here," I'm practically swooning. He is so awesome. Sometimes I'm not sure why he puts up with me, especially after yesterday's spectacular Mom of the Year performance wherein I threw a tantrum because I was so tired of my kids throwing tantrums.
Yep. I am just that awesome.
Now where did I put that straight jacket?