Someone is always sick, getting sick, getting over being sick. And the germs get passed around the table as quickly as the mashed potatoes.
Meltdowns are a given. Sometimes it's the kids, sometimes it's me.
Snide comments are a given too. Someone always looks like they've gained weight, or has a pimple, or has a kid who is whiny and disruptive. And someone always feels the need to point it out. Luckily, my only claim was the whiny kid.
Discussions always get heated. Someone always brings up politics, or money, or being green, and there goes the nice talk. So sorry hickville doesn't offer recycling pickup. And I guess I'm just to lazy to drive the 45 minutes myself, leaving me an awful earth-hating momma.
Someone always gets hurt. It's usually my kid. I guess since we rarely dress up, he doesn't excel at running in dress pants, leading to his hands and knees meeting the pavement.
I take home tons of stuff we don't really need. Easter basket 1, 2, and 3 all were loaded into the car yesterday. Seriously people, it's not Christmas in April. And giving my kid toys you found on clearance at Montgomery Ward 22 years ago is not my idea of fun times.
I'm always so exhausted by the end of the day, I just want to crawl under the covers all alone.
And finally, my little one is so exhausted that he refuses to go to sleep or even relax long enough that I can catch my sanity. Oh, and did I mention he likes to talk when he's tired. Non-stop.
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