I'm traveling this week, so Husband is running the homestead. The following is an email he sent me describing his Monday:
"3:00am - Cat starts whining. I finally get up at 4am to scold her and close the bedroom doors. I don't get back to sleep until 5am. Of course, I find out later she peed in the bathroom again. We're changing her litter box crap back to whatever worked before. In fact, tell me what it was and I'll go get some tomorrow. Think I'm leaving her outside tonight.
I get everybody out the door just fine. I'm beat, so I took a nap. Struggled to get some work done; not a very productive day.
Take the kids to TKD. Max and I go to the grocery store. I take my time so as to eat up the hour. Get to the check out and I don't have my wallet. Now, I gotta rush home, get the wallet, blah blah blah.
Come home with the groceries intending to make hamburgers. Turns out, after all that, they didn't give me my hamburger buns (and a few other things). So, we have hot dogs. I later find out, Mia brought in one bag of groceries and left it in the mudroom; the bag that contained the buns.
Off to piano. Max and I come home. He's playing Wii. He starts yelling for me because he has crapped massive amounts of diarrhea in his pants. At least nothing leaked and he was in the basement bathroom, so I threw him in the shower and threw his underwear away. The dogs were good today."
There is so much here that is a "welcome to my world" reality. I'm not really laughing, but it is a little funny that the string of bad luck ended in diarrhea, because I just can't imagine that it gets any worse than that for Tom.
All I can say is that that goodness for the dogs that they had a good day...