The past couple of days have been hectic. An interview. Two doctor's appointments. Several trips to take Son #1 see The Girl. Tae kwon do, three days in a row. Open Mic, last night (you didn't think I'd skip blues jam, did you?)
The Sons continue to eat us out of house and home, so I am going to the grocery store like I expect Brangelina to be handing out free diamond tennis bracelets in the parking lot, any minute. And, of course, the gym, because I am hooked on it.
As always, the dog needs walking. Because it really doesn't make a lick of difference, to him, whether he goes on the rug, on a pile of clean laundry a Son swore he put away, or outside. He could go either way. It's totally up to us. Really. He's flexible, like that.
Sons #3 and 4 have discovered the joys of bread baking. The house is full of the aroma of freshly baked bread, and the happy sounds Hubby makes when he takes a bite. It is also full of globs of bread dough, and drifts of flour and sugar and yeast. Because they think they clean up after themselves. They really do.
Although Son #1 enjoys using Hubby's bathrobe, more than his own, his REAL favorite is his comforter. Of course, once he is done with it, he'll just drop it. Like this morning---the hall bathroom has all his dirty clothes from last night AND a queen-sized comforter, on the floor. And dental floss. He also deposited a hairbrush in the box of peaches on the kitchen table. Ooogh.
All this to say, I haven't done laundry in two days, or dishes, since yesterday morning. I woke up and took a look and thought, "Hooooo, boy! I am not ready for this!"
But now that I've enjoyed my latest breakfast fad, bran flakes, and taken a moment to kvetch to the blogosphere, I feel much better.
I think I'll go clean the kitchen. Probably won't rush to eat a peach, though. They are fuzzier than is natural.