After a “much less tragic than it could have been” collision between my kids on their scooters, we came into the house, I applied first aid, and everyone was ordered to rest for a while. (Myself not included, of course.)
I looked around the kitchen, and realized that I will possibly never get ahead.
I swear, I worked all morning on putting away craft supplies, toys, dishes, etc., and it’s like nothing ever happened. Instead of having a breakdown, I pulled it together and reminded myself that kids live here. They make messes. I work. I don’t have a cleaning lady.
I used some foam letters to put this message in a prominent place for such moments in the future.
Might I add, that enormous tub of foam letters contained exactly one letter V, and an overabundance of Ns.
