Monday, November 9, 2009

When even a margarita won't help

Yes, I had one of those weekends.
Saturday, due to a brief financial windfall, found The Man and I dropping the heathens off at Grandma's so we could go Yule shopping.
Whereas both boys through fits worthy of note, although Boo did recover much fast than Bug.
Bug hid in Grandma's garage, ate breakfast in Grandma's garage, and in general, was a pint sized twirp.
But the Man and I prevailed, saving a whopping $115 dollars on Yule presents ( we got $350 for $235!) It was his first couponing shopping adventure with me (a virgin! Oh my!) and he had a glazed looked in his eyes the rest of the day.
Then off to the grocery store to restock our pantries. The Man has vowed never again.
So my plan succeeded, because I loathe taking him to the store with me.
He messes with my rhythm.
Sunday was just me and the heathens.
And it was not a pretty picture.
The boys were wild and succeeded in interrupting Punk's nap, so I had a screaming, fussing 22 month old all day.
Seriously! I looked at her, she cried. I tried to pick her up, she cried. Tried to leave her alone, she cried. Tried to stay with her, she cried.
It was lose/lose proposition.
Until she finally passed out, in the recliner, at 5:30pm and slept 13 hours straight.
And this morning? She's still giving me the stink eye.
But she's Daddy's problem until 5 o'clock tonight.
I'll take pissy customers any day.

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