I don't know but today seems kinda odd….
6:15 a.m. I awake to the annoying reverberation of but one of my seemingly infinite bosses. The alarm yells louder and louder until I submit. Despite the record breaking temps the past few days I held fast against turning on the A.C. because, it's March. Seemed like a logical idea last night but I quickly regret as the sheets and I are now stuck together.
The shuffling of feet in the darkness stimulates another member of management as the dog initiates his first whine of the day. It won't be his last. Lest I forget his failure to evolve opposing thumbs keeps him for letting himself outside, because that's different than yesterday.
I shower, quickly. Timing is everything this morning. The wife is gone: on her first leg of three (vacation, work, and work) trips that will keep her on the road nearly the whole week. Waking the kid up now means a toddler pulling the shower curtain down (again) mid-shower while the dog takes a squat in the living room (again).
No barking from the dogs…
6:45 a.m. Coffee in hand. Dressed. Dog doing his business, outside. I take in the tranquility of the lake, the cool damp morning breeze, the vibrant sounds of spring creatures prepping for the whole animal romance thing. It's going to be a good…Oh, look at that. The dog got off the leash again and there he goes.
And momma cooked a breakfast with no hog..
7:05 a.m. Fast forward twenty minutes and I'm wet again. This time in sweat and white-hot anger. After chasing after what might as well be a cheetah and averting the judging stares of bath-robed neighbors, the dog comes back. I contemplate a drive to a nice "farm" in the country before work but realize the little bastard will probably find his way back, probably with a string of dead kittens and dug up flower beds in his wake, while leading the cops straight to me. Next time…
I enter little girl's room to find said little girl erect, furrowed of brow and with a look of disgust squarely aimed at yours truly. Hell hath no fury like a toddler not immediately serviced upon waking. I re-run the morning's game plan in my head. We're already behind. Breakfast (day-care feeds her too so this is just pre-breakfast) consists of milk and banana. To save time I put cut up banana in a bowl and let her free range while I pack her things for the day. I return to find an upside down bowl, a cross-armed kid and what looks like a banana stepped on a landmine all over the newly scrubbed floor. I stifle the scream under my breath while trying not to pass out.
Had to stop at a red light
Looking in my mirror not a jacker in sight
And everything is alright
8:30 a.m. We arrive at daycare. The ride spent mostly in silence as even though she's not quite two, the daughter seemed to recognize the dangers of upsetting the driver in heavy traffic even more. She was kind enough to keep the screaming to a minimum. Daycare drop offs are always bittersweet. She seems to enjoy it for the most part but saying goodbye sucks.
8:35 a.m. Gathering myself back in the car, I see I left my work bag with my lap top at home. Great.
9:15 a.m. After a trip back home, I finally get to work, late by normal standards but then I don't really care much. I'll spare you the details. Let's just say I did some things to make more bosses a bunch of money I'll never see while working on my new book, If I Did It, Confessions of an Alleged Office Refrigerator Lunch Thief.
4:55 p.m. Under the rock-solid alibi of I have to drive across town to get to daycare before it closes excuse, I leave early and arrive to find the little girl tackle me with joy and open arms like we just won the Super Bowl. Best part of the day hands down.
Drove her to the pad and I'm coasting…
6:00 p.m. We get home, the little girl seeming to remember the morning tension and again stays quite on the ride home. Of course the dog forges judging by the pile of number two-ness he left for me in the corner. What, you couldn't remember to do that on your little jog this morning?
Day care claimed the girl refused lunch today. A semi-common excuse we get when they serve something even a hungry toddler wouldn't eat or the whole class riots and they move on to something less messy. I had a ticking bomb on my hands here so dinner was rushed to threat level red.
7:15 p.m. Dinner's over and we begin the wind down procedures for putting an over-stimulated toddler down for the night. After a steady stream of book readings and she goes down. Blissfully easy given the day we've had.
7:35 p.m. A spectacular thunderstorm arrives with enough rain to prove the hole in the roof the roofer claimed was fixed, was in fact not fixed. Tupperware and towels cover the floor as I watch water drip from the light fixtures.
I was glad everything had worked out…
8:15 p.m. The monitor erupts with red lights and louder than usual screaming. I investigate to find her pant-less, diaper-less and in tears. The upset stomach thing from the past few days had triggered a monster of a diaper rash, irritated again by the apparent removal of everything below the waste. We rock, the tears and heaving gradually subsiding as the sweat on both our brows pools together. I say a silent prayer - thank you for not letting her poop just now.
Drunk as hell but not throwing up…
9:15 p.m. Several stiff drinks later, I sit still and reflect on this day and realize what will undoubtedly be a mean cold tomorrow is brewing in my throat and chest. Wonderful. I check in with the wife to reconfirm she still intends to return and, as she always does, offers some sage perspective on the current state of affairs, a lot could get worse, we could all have a rash on our ass.
Yes. So there's that. Hoping tomorrow is better and ass-rash free.
I got say it was a good day
Hey, wait a minute fool!