Life According to Me

Today, Mark and I were having a perfectly lovely conversation about about random life stuff. Benign, really. Then all of a sudden, out of frickin' nowhere he throws in "Wow....you're almost 40?!" record scratch. He immediately saw the error of his way, and probably the loneliness of it as well. Suddenly he's a giggly foot eating apologizing FOOL! grrrrr. For the record, I'm 36. Almost 37. For the record .

On Noah's night stand is a small cup of milk I allowed him to have. Of course, there was a lecture involved. You know... be very careful, do not spill, if you do I will be very mad . I'm making his bed, I flip the covers and send the cup and it's contents all over the place. Shock spreads across Noah's face. I'm pissed. "You see, Mom.....that's why we need ShamWow." Way to save the moment, Noah. Oh....and no more TV. While in the front yard playing, Noah announces that he wants me to play baseball. "Ooooo...I don't know how to play. That's a game for you and Dad." "What??? What do mean. All you have to do is throw the ball at me and I hit it. It's not hard." Note to self; baseball is easier than I believed .

It is I, who drives this ship. History will bear witness to my sad little tradition. The tradition of allowing my family to sleep in and in and in while on holiday. I'm clearly aware of the consequences of this action, yet choose to drive our ship directly into the coziness of the 11 am harbor. 6 am tomorrow is looking bleak for me and my shipmates......arrrrrrrgh.