D-o-n-e. Can I get an amen?

As those who know me can attest, I am a grown a** woman.  Sure, sometimes the laundry pile gets a little tall and maybe you’ll find dog hair tumbleweeds under the chairs, but I keep this place rolling.  The kids are dressed (usually in clean clothes, too), the dogs make it to their vet appointments, the family calendar is synced, and school stuff gets handled.

It’s like a well oiled machine around these parts.

Bwahahahahaha!  Just kidding.  We’re more like a squeaky wheel that occasionally needs extra air, but we’re holding our own.

And yet sometimes I’m done.  D-o-n-e, done.  We shall call this list:

Things I Just Cannot Handle Anymore

**  I’m shoving cushions back into the couch every single time I walk by.  Every single time.  How hard is it to get up off that thing without dragging down the front?

**  I’ve developed some sort of hyper alert sense of smell.  Strange leftovers in the fridge.  Something hidden at the bottom of the trash can.  Stinky socks piled in the laundry room.  The odor creeps into my brain, sets up camp, and fires neurons for hours.

**  Handling these dogs is like wrangling toddlers.  One oversized fur ball who throws herself full force at any kid who wanders through, desperately trying to lick their sweet faces.  Another who alternately barks like a lunatic protecting the homestead and pushes up against legs, begging for snuggles.

**  The stars are abundant, the nature’s divine, the setting’s tranquil…but the spiders.  Lord Almighty, the spiders.

**  My dietary requirements are flexible.  I can go for days without a “real” dinner, and breakfast is usually coffee and a breakfast bar.  Even lunch is hit or miss, depending on my mood.  But these kids – these kids, with their appetites and their growth spurts and their vitamins and minerals.  Sheesh!  It’s exhausting.

**  Exactly what is so difficult to understand about “come home when the streetlights come on”?  I mean, really, the lights are either burning or they’re not.  And they’re streetlights so they’re tall and hard to miss.  Shoot, there’s one right outside our front door!  Light glowing?  Come home.  It’s a very straightforward system.

**  How is it the kids can remember to check the gas level in the go cart before heading out but will leave dirty clothes languishing in their rooms for weeks?  One of those things seems much simpler than the other, and it’s the one that doesn’t involve an engine.

**  I can’t help but wonder how much dog hair I’ve ingested over the years.  You’d think we’d be a bit more catlike around here, coughing up hairballs once in a while to clear our systems.

**  You know what’s super fun?  Opening the pantry to find empty boxes stuffed back on shelves.  Took the last pack of crackers?  Whatever, just stick the box back.  Ate the last cookie?  Someone else will take care of that trash.  Nutrigrain bars, Cliff bars, cereal, granola bars…all items that come in a box, all boxes that I have found sitting completely empty in our pantry.  Come on, kids, the counter where you put recycling is only three steps to the left.  You Can Do It.

9 thoughts on “D-o-n-e. Can I get an amen?

  1. OMG! what a tyrant to actually expect the kids to put forth a level of effort. and think of the poor mistreated puppies. you should take all of them out for Taco Bell tonight and beg for forgiveness. except for the puppies of course. puppies and Taco Bell is definitely not a good thing. ick!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. hahaha! I can relate! Especially the empty boxes. Similar to the last inch or two of chips in the bag that no one will ever touch again. Or the last bit of milk that’s not enough for a bowl of cereal. let alone a glass. But it’s enough left so that they don’t have to deal with the horrors of throwing the container in the trash.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Oh! The milk! Mine have done better with that but they insist on putting it with the recycling despite the fact that I’ve told them DOZENS OF TIMES that it’s trash. Yes, I know it SEEMS like it should be recyclable, but it’s not. Sheesh!

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Fab list, Laura. Empty boxes are a no-go around here, because I bought bins. Everything comes out of the boxes immediately, and into the bin, because I CANNOT LIVE LIKE THESE PEOPLE!
    I hear you on dinner, too. I do not, apparently, need to eat a proper dinner every single night. I need a nosh. I’m old, okay?
    Streetlights, yes. I did this. Half of America has done it for 100 years. It is very simple.
    I don’t struggle with the couch, but I do have to push the same gd chair in every single day, sometimes twice. It seems the Not Me Ghost uses it.
    I tell you one thing, this last summer, I made those girls clean the upholstery and bang the fluff back up in the sofas, and that was worth its weight in gold! 😉

    Liked by 1 person

    • I think everyone has that one (or five) piece of furniture that tortures them daily. I’m loving the bins idea, though. Might kill two birds with one stone — buy the bins and make the kids sort snacks into them. Shoot, they can clean up the horrifying mess they’ve made of my pantry while they’re at it…

      Liked by 1 person

      • Yes ma’am. Got containers for a lot of it, bins for the rest. Mmhm. It’s easy to see what’s low and waste is far less. If you give it a whirl, let me know how it works for you 🙂

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