Kindly disregard this post. I’m drunk.

So, you’re reading this anyway, huh?  Well, suit yourself.

Let me set the scene for you then.  It is 11:20 p.m. CST.  My husband and my son are attending a Cub Scout Pack 679 Camp-In where they will spend the night “camping” in my son’s elementary school’s gymnasium.  I participated in this event last year, which is why I am not doing it again this year.  I love my son, but not enough to do it two years in a row.  My daughter is sleeping.  As she is also sick, she is probably snoring like a freight train.  I don’t particularly care at the moment because I, interestingly enough, have very recently consumed an entire bottle of Merlot purchased from Aldi.

I was initially very hesitant to purchase a bottle of wine from Aldi.  After all, it’s Aldi.  How good could the wine be?  But then I realized that, after two very stressful days of both children AND my husband being home from school and work due to the Chicago 2011 Blizzard (or as I like to call it, Snowtorious B.I.G.), I really didn’t care anymore.  I would consider drinking rubbing alcohol after the week I’ve just endured.  I probably wouldn’t actually drink it, but I would definitely consider it.  It’s been a rough week.

My family has been giddy with excitement because of the storm’s effect on their normal routine.  They played in the snow, drank hot chocolate and watched television until they passed out from exhaustion.  However, my activities haven’t been curtailed in the least.  In fact, my “job” became infinitely more complicated simply due to their presence.  I did not get a day off from the dishes.  The five loads of laundry still needed to be washed, folded and put away (I don’t iron.  Not anymore).  And now, in addition to everything I normally do throughout the day, I was also expected to prepare three squares a day for everybody, referee the grudge match between the boy and the girl over the blue Fisher-Price Geo Trax cargo box and every other piece of microscopic crap they decided they simply couldn’t live without for five minutes, and ignore the fact that my husband has a horribly warped sense of time because he honestly thinks he’ll be able to clear three feet of snow with an underpowered snow blower from an approximately 35 x 15 foot driveway (my measurements may be off – I am a girl after all.  I’ll blog about that another time) in an hour.  After which, he promises to relieve me of childcare duty so that I can decompress in the bathtub.  Yeah, right.  And maybe later monkeys might fly out of my ass.  (Wayne’s World ROCKS!)

What actually happened is that I have very narrowly escaped being permanently incarcerated in the local loony bin by a Cub Scout Pack 679 activity and my purchase of a $4.95 bottle of French Merlot from Aldi.  And now, having concluded my drunken rant, I intend to stay up all night in order to enjoy every second of my hard earned “mommy time.”

On that note, I bid you adieu.  I’m sure you can find something more interesting to occupy your time.  Move along.  These aren’t the droids you’re looking for.

 

 

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