Just had a amazing spaz session on my husband. It's just something about the fact that when I come home from the career of ultimate organization and order, I walk into chaos at the front door.
I mean he doesn't have to do much. Pick her up from daycare. Give her a nutritious snack. Change her diaper and play with her until I get home. No no no... I come home to a butt naked baby stuffed with cookies and half combed hair.
What now, Daddy of the Year? As you leave and gallivant through the town doing God knows what, I am forced to stay and deal with a baby that won't eat dinner. Overstimulated, Hungry and Cranky, the baby now has to be chased down and tackled to be brought back to reality. Something, I do not have the energy to do.
O.K. Maybe it wasn't that bad. I mean he just left to go help his little cousin out at his high school football game. And he did feed her bananas and apples, not cookies., but all sugar non-the-less. So, it still wasn't dinner but he did play with her on the swing set outside. But she now was sugared to a frenzy with a toy picnic in the living room that I would have to clean up!
I think just after a day of getting a freaking judgment filing done in 4 different counties in Georgia, making calls to various bitchy court clerks about Hearing dates, helping one of the major litigators in your firm find his way to his hotel from the middle of Croatia, all this without a lunch break. You may blow a few things out of proportion. Oh and did I mention I was on my period? Forget about it.
So, when he asked me where the keys where so I could move my car so he could escape the baby zoo I walked into. I told him where to shove them. Well, no really I just snatched them up and moved the car myself. Take that Boo. I am woman hear me roar.
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