Daddy’s Home. ..So Mama Can Have Wine!

So, maybe that does sound a bit desperate and borderlining on alcoholism but it’s been one of THOSE days.
My first mistake of the day was forgetting that I’m in my mid thirties and that the four miles I walked yesterday would seek vengeance on my entire body the second my feet hit the floor. Ouch! Seriously, what the hell! After a LOT of begging, pleading, bribing and threatening my 15 year old daughter "agreed" to walk her seven year old sister to school. Thank the freaking heavens! The idea of pretending I slept through the alarm and playing hooky was a serious option otherwise.

My second mistake of the day was thinking I could clean the house, do the laundry, rid the fridge of the new species growing in it, catch up on years of Bones, mow the backyard, dig up old plants, pot new plants and write; all in between my 4 month old son's naps and before my middle came home from school.

Yes, it's been one of those days. 
I achieved exactly 1.25 of those things.

So, when my wonderful husband walked in the door to a wife sitting on the floor covered in dirt, holding a screaming infant while another child pretending to be "an Elsa alien" ran by in her underwear, he knew better than to ask "what the hell happened to the front yard or what's for dinner ". Instead, he snuggled up the baby, poured a glass of Pinot and said "daddy's home. Mama can have wine. "