Things have been more difficult than necessary around here lately. Nothing has been profoundly wrong, but nothing has been right, either. We've had a weekend trifecta, if you will. All I can say is thank goodness it wasn't an octofecta!
Part I: My husband has been out of town for the better part of the week and it carried over to the weekend. He's never gone on the weekends. This, of course, has a snowball effect because everything scheduled for the weekend was committed with the understanding that there would be two adults around to drive the activity bus. Saturday was chaotic. I chased myself in circles all over town, crashed into myself at the intersection of Crazy Street and Overcomitted Lane, and spent a ridiculous amount of time fantasizing (did I just say fantasizing?! There are lots of great things to fantasize about and this is not one of them) about the moment when all the kids would be asleep.
Part II: Sunday I picked Abby and Emily up from a sleepover and discovered that they might have been exposed to lice. That dull thudding sound you heard Sunday was the sound of my jaw hitting the floor. There is something innately repulsive about tiny parasites vampirizing my children. With extended fingertips, I carefully lifted small strands of the girls' hair to the light fearing that I might find evidence of blood sucking parasites feasting on my daughters' heads. And I found... nothing... yet.Part III: At this point I'm officially gripped by the irrational fear that we're on the verge of a full-scale parasitic assault. Stuffed animals went into the dryer on the hottest setting for a high- heat session. All bedding got a one way ticket to the laundry room. As I rounded the corner with yet another armload of laundry I found this:
This is where it started. A cascade of foamy white suds that should've been doin' their thing inside the washing machine, and not spilling out onto the floor... After all the vomitting that happened a week ago now the washing machine is vomitting...