Being stuck on my derriere is hell. And that's SO not fair, because I'm always dreaming about doing nothing but sitting on my ass. This is supposed to be my chance to fulfill that dream.
Instead, I get to spend the time staring at all of my housekeeping and parenting inadequacies. As I type, my children are wearing filthy clothes, ignoring my orders to brush their teeth, and I think M is actually lost in her bedroom.
Oh, wait. H is reporting that M got in the car with the husband.
Okay, confirmed.
Don't get me wrong. My kids have been more than willing to fetch me things. The olders have been happy to feed the "baby" and the pets. They've managed to wash a few dishes as needed (or reuse when especially lazy) and have stayed out of serious danger, for the most part.
But anything else? Fair game. Because what's Mom going to do about it, anyway? Her crutches only reach so far.
Boy, are they in for a world of hurt when I'm mobile!
Art mystery possibly solved?
2 days ago
1 comment:
My kids still haven't returned to their normal charming selves from when I had pneumonia. They devolved into a pack of slavering beasts so quickly, don't they?
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