I'm running away from the 4 month old who cried for six straight hours today. Do you have any idea what that kind of crying does to a person's sanity? Let's just say that if you do see me, don't be confused when I am repeatedly banging my head against the wall. I am doing it on purpose.
I am running away from the 20 month old boy who has had boogers streaming down his face all day. Picture Niagara Falls. You won't even be close.
I am running away from the 3 year old. Does that really need any more explanation? Shouldn't just telling you her age, be enough?
I am running away from my 4 year old who feels that "no" is the answer to any question out of my mouth. Probably correct when the question is, "Do you want to go to your room?" but, less funny, when the question is, "Will you PLEASE, for the love of all that is holy, clean up your freaking Valentine's?"
I am running away from my 6 year old, who does not believe me when I tell her that 8 + 7 is not 13. Or 14. Or 16.
I am running away from the "person" that added a spoon and 2 chocolate candies to the soup I was making for dinner.
I am running away from the ever-bloated bag of "Amish Friendship Bread" that is sitting on my counter. I think the damn thing reached 10 days...4 days ago. (If you have no idea what I am talking about...consider yourself lucky.)
I'm running away from my nutrition assignment. "No, I don't know why my diet of
I am running away from the brown, squishy bananas in my pantry and the carton of buttermilk in my fridge. If my husband wants banana bread, he can call his Mom.
I am running away from the sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, stuffy head and fever that has plagued our house for the last two weeks. (See how clever I was? I used the Nyquil slogan. Since that didn't cover it all, let me also add: the vomiting, the diarrhea, the crying, the waking me up, the goopy eyes, the raspy breathing and the swollen tonsils.)
I am running away from the kitchen floor that hasn't been mopped in 2 weeks. That's right, I didn't stutter...two weeks. Don't judge me. I'm lucky I've found time to shower in the last 2 weeks.
I am running away from the guy doing the tile in our basement bathroom. What in the hell, is so hard about wiping your feet, or (God forbid) taking off your shoes? Seriously. I mean, is the 6 inches of mud in my yard, not enough of an indication that it may make it into the house, if you don't remove your shoes? And for another thing, is it necessary to slam the door every gosh darn time you come in and out? I yelled at my poor daughter to "SHHH! THE BABY IS FINALLY FALLING ASLEEP!" very loudly, in your presence, hoping you'd get the hint. Maybe next time.
I'm running away from dieting. Dammit, chocolate
I'm running away from my job. I'm tired of staring at multi-million dollar homes, furnished with millions of dollars of furniture...when I don't know how I'm going to pay for the carpet in my basement. (And the kicker? Many of these homes are secondary homes...that the owner visits six weeks out of the year. Wow.)
I'm running away from my math homework. Dear Professor--You and I both know that I don't need this crap in the real world. I can barely find time to balance my checkbook, let alone anything else. There is no way in hell, that I am going to take the time to figure out the percentage of red dye #40 in my kid's fruit punch.
I'm running away to a warm beach. A place where I'm left alone to complete an entire thought, without interruption. If I'm really quiet, I can almost hear the waves now. Splish, Splash. Splish. Splash.
That splishing and splashing...is the upstairs tub overflowing. I guess I'll run away tomorrow. For now, I'll have to comfort myself with the fact that my children are getting clean...and so is the floor. And the rug. And the cat. Multi-tasking, at it's finest.