My Un-Birthday So Far (With Cat Poop)...

The night before my birthday, last night, a dear friend I never see anymore because she lives in Berlin---GERMANY---visited and we stayed up talking and sharing a bottle of wine until midnight. I wouldn't have traded that visit for anything, but it was late, my son is an early riser and right before I headed for bed (where my husband snoozed blissfully) I started my period. Oh yes: TMI! TMI! I know. However, to carry on---my first birthday present was a huge dose of real life with cramps, more real life when my son arose at 5am, all lights on in his toddler's mind, all systems ready to go-go-go. His dad made him breakfast and took over while I slept until 630am------which helps, but......bye bye Dadda! Have a good day at work. Annnnd it's me and my son and the DMV, with a line out the door and down the block so bye bye to that as I drive us with an expired license to the playground, only to discover it completely fenced off for reasons unknown, so off to Target because nothing else is open and Target works well and I buy my son presents I think will be useful, drawing things, a glow worm to go with his new big boy bed and his suspicious-of- sleeping-in-it attitude, and I chase him around the aisles, or rather walk very fast pretending to chase and he gets a workout and we come home and he's ready for lunch and it's only 9am. As I gather our packages from the minivan, he toodles to the front door, I let us in and WHAM, what the heck is that SMELL? I check my shoes. Nope. I glance at my son's shoes just as he's stepping onto the threshold, onto which he smears super potent cat poop. The poop is also on his jeans, and so coating his shoes it is a trick to get them off. I do, though, then hear footsteps behind me and it's the mail woman and I've forgotten to pay the bills and so there's that to take care of and Dadda didn't give me a birthday card this morning because he has plans for tonight that I was supposed to telephathically know about and it's just another normal day which happens to be my birthday and I don't do well with those, even though I should, I really, really should, ESPECIALLY because I'm a mother now. Especially because. So I've put on Wallace and Grommit to go with a morning snack and already, typing it out, this Targety, cat poopy, cardless birthday, already-----I feel better.

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Comment by Mel Of Bacchus on June 6, 2011 at 12:39am
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