What a Wednesday. My partner-in-crime is out, and I think I’m ready for the evening crazies that start at 4pm, despite my 6 broken hours of sleep the night before.
I set out the prep for my dinner and put #1 kid’s food in the microwave. Then I try to find the tin opener and it has vanished. I remember that she’s taken to thinking it’s a hairbrush and pinches it out of the drawer, so she’s taken it, or I’ve confiscated it and put it somewhere “safe”. A cursory search yields only frustration for me.
Then #1 yells for food. #2 screams for milk. My insurance guy calls for a check up on a claim at the same time, which is actually important, so I do it while I’m getting food out of the microwave and trying to speed-cool it, and #2 is wriggling on the floor, ignored and venting her anger in my general direction.
Then #1 is settled with dinner, the insurance is sorted, and I pick up #2 for milk, only to find one breast has a blocked duct and it’s super painful, but it has to be massaged and the child fed. I hunker down on the couch for a moment.
Meanwhile #1 has eaten half her dinner and is now putting her milk bottle into a spoon and is smearing it all over the table. I’m tied to the baby so I can’t do anything just yet.
Once the baby is fed she’s back on the floor and #1 is cleaned up. I’m starving but where the hell is the tin opener?
I circle the house once more, checking in all the regular hiding spots, but nothing. In desperation I raid the garden cabinet for the swiss army knife and open the tin so I can finally start making dinner. A relief!
As I sit and eat I’m contemplating buying a new one, and trying to wonder when I will have time to hack away at another chapter on my novel… maybe in a week or two?
The next day I buy a spare tin-opener, but it’s another week before I find the actual stupid thing… under the kid’s change table in her bedroom.