My vacuum broke

Standard

Ever have one of those days where your vacuum dies and you spend the majority of your morning trying to figure out why it died and end up getting vacuum nastiness everywhere and in the end have a big mess to clean up with a non-sucking vacuum?  And your daughter decides to mutilate one of your decorative balls and you try to super glue it back to beauty and end up gluing three of your fingers to the object and then to each other?  And on your dominant hand nonetheless?  And you try and make a new recipe to take to a party only to taste it and wonder why 100 people gave it 5 stars and end up throwing in the garbage?  And your children either decide not to nap at all or just nap enough to not go back to sleep but not enough to be in a good mood?  And you were supposed to fix a vegetable side dish for said party but your party poopers kept you from even opening a can of green beans?  And your son decides to get into the coffee beans and use them as bugs?  And everyone seems to be pooping a million times that day?  And you text your husband that he better be home soon because you are about to lose it with the inability to get anything done and no one is listening to you?  And when you go to change your filth covered clothes your pants are too tight but you wear them anyway?

No, you haven’t?  Well, good. for. you.

Thankfully 5:45pm came around at just the right time and we made it to our party where I was able to laugh for the first time that day and my husband was able to fix my vacuum (is it sad that I was actually hoping it was dead-dead and not fixable-dead because I wanted a new one but was more relieved that it was fixable-dead so we didn’t have to shell out the dough for a new one even though that is what I really wanted?) and I was able to eat chocolate without sharing and go to the bathroom alone.

Advertisements

2 responses »

  1. Ha! I can totally relate! It’s so nice when you get the chance to go to the bathroom alone, or sit down and eat without having to share. And dealing with poopy kids is no fun (although you have a lot more poop going on in your house than we do in ours since we only have one!), and I also text my hubby asking him to come home early! Oh Motherhood!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s