Our pooch pooped in the kitchen (in her defense she was very close to the back door so it seems she had every intention of wanting to get outside and had she been taller with opposable thumbs she could have done it).
I gave in and let Bug have a chocolate chip cookie as part of his breakfast because he said, "Mommy, I don't want brefast, I wanna cookie you made" [insert sweet three-year-old's smile here].
It was an Olympic event just trying to get the little guy dressed this morning.
Our sitter called about the time she usually arrives saying the bus is late so can we pick her up at the bus stop.
The only pair of hose I could find have holes from my knees to my thighs so I'm wearing them. Luckily my skirt is long.
Donnie leaves for a trip tomorrow.
My thank you note for dinner at our friends' house has to include an apology for Bug throwing up after dinner. (Or as he says, "my mouth is gonna spill." I've caught on quick to that one.)
"Toot, toot, chug, chug, big red car" is on a continuous loop through my head.
It could be a lot worse but just the same I'm looking forward to Tuesday...