Last week was a doozie. A combination of sleep deprivation, baby brain, and bad eyesight led to this colossal blunder.
Guess which one I brought to work. I'll give you a hint. It wasn't the Dr. Pepper. To say "whoops" would be an understatement. I slammed my lunchbox shut and hustled it out to the car quicker than you can say, "Una cerveza por favor." I would have preferred to have popped the top and said, "Cheers, Homies" but that whole responsibility thing got in the way. Maturity blows.
I also originally planned to have all 7 days off last week . That didn't work out either. I worked 6 of the 7 days. You can see, I'm batting 1000 here.
I managed to cook Thanksgiving dinner for both the fire station and my family. I was hoping for some appreciation from The Firefighter - after all that was a TON of work and not easy with a 2 small children underfoot. What I got was, "I'm thankful you didn't set the kitchen on fire this year."
To which I responded, "Thanks, Shithead. The dishes are waiting for you at the house. Your welcome."
Boom! Amber - 1 The Firefighter - 0 (You know I love you, Boo!)
Miss Chatterbox is at that age were they start to "get it" about the holidays. Except, she couldn't give a rat's patootie about Thanksgiving. As she clearly stated when she said, "I no like food, mommy. I want mac and cheese." Yep, that's right. She turned up her nose at the holiday spread, screamed like a banshee and even took a bite out of her playdoh in protest. She's a little terrorist in training. I bet she could've made Bin Laden holler "uncle."
We did get the tree up and decorated - sorta. We let Miss Chatterbox decorate the tree, so all the ornaments were hanging on the bottom third of the tree and subject to constant rearrangement. I would put up a picture but sometime last night, she slipped out of bed, took all the ornaments off and hid them. 5 hours after I discovered this, they are still MIA. Personally, I think she's holding them hostage. I'm expecting a ransom note, any time now, reading, "Give me the cookies, and your precious little ornaments will be returned. Ignore this message and I will pull off the arms of all the Frostys, and beards off the Santas. You have one hour."
It's Monday again, Y'all. Have a good one!