When it rains (metaphorically speaking), the dogs throw up (non-metaphorically speaking)


Sorry for the silence, guys, but things have been crashing down around my ears hear at the lovely CasaS.

My mother has not been well at all for the past week or so. This has entailed several emergency phone calls to me, leaving me with naught to do but drop everything and run.

Then, my car needed working on. Just when the budget was in the worst possible place for bleeding more dollars on an 10 year old car. Humph. Oh, and did you know my next tuition bill for the Zman is due and payable?

Friday morning was the Teacher Appreciation Breakfast hosted for the teachers and staff of McKid's school, sponsored by two of the Kindergarten classes. That meant, as room mom, I had phone calls to make, casseroles to bake, bacon to cook, etc. AND get there by 7:15 Friday morning to serve the stuff.

Then this past weekend was our weekend for having McKid stay with us. That's a joy, but it shows me once again why God was wise to give little 'uns to younger folks. By the end of the weekend, I am tired. Five year olds just don't want to sleep very late on Saturday morning! And they NEVER want to take a Saturday afternoon nap, either. Which really didn't make all that much difference, because I got a call from my mom and had to go over there.

Then she was out of school all day Monday because of the Cinco de Mayo holiday at her school. (Remind me again why we celebrate that here? Do they celebrate July 4th in Mexico? Am I confused?) So she was with me all day Monday as well.

Poor McKid's mom is working a ton of overtime, so that means we need to help cover her bases when she can't be home.........

So Monday I was talking to Smock on the phone as I drove home from my sweet mom's house with a headachey McKid in the back seat. She was kind enough to call what I was doing "venting." I don't know. It sounded like whining to me.

Anyway, as I walked into my house, I was telling her, "It just shows--when it rains, it pours." Only to step right into a pool of dog throw up right in my entryway.

I had to laugh.

No, at my house, when it rains, it doesn't pour. When it rains, I also have to clean up dog upchuck.

It's never-ending around here.



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This page contains a single entry by MamaT published on May 7, 2008 11:51 AM.

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