Sunday, December 10, 2006
And I apologize for not recognizing my inherent evil nature by becoming easily frustrated with a small child who does not understand that she is on a bad trip and why, oh why, does it feel so shaky?
Mommy is also responsible for the myriad things that could have gone wrong when, in the midst of meltdown numero dos, I gathered up said child and pregnant wifey in her socks for a stroller walk around the block (crying averted!) and returned to find
1. the front door wide open
2. the cats alone with an open pack of baby yogurt on sitting precariously on the couch (and an open front door)
3. the veggies on the stovetop boiling over
4. The oven happily beeping away ("I'm preheated! Guys? Where'd you go?")
5. A lit candle
It was only later that all that walking caused some bleeding and contractions. But ya know, another pre-term labor scare while searching the neighborhood for one's cats, with an infant on one leg because your wife must go lie down immediately, is nothing. Santa, please bring me the ability to, even at a minimal level, perform the daily functions necessary to survival.
AJ is currently searching Dr. Google for the answer to your question. And now MY question is why the hell won't she call the midwife? And do we get to bill her insurance for services rendered?
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