Dysfunctional Day

Any time the first thing you register when you wake up in the morning is pain in your head, you should just close your eyes and go back to sleep, because it's a pretty fair indication that things aren't going to get much better. Unfortunately, in the real world, where I live, there is no such thing as closing your eyes and going back to sleep. So I got up. And that was a mistake. We had some errands to run this morning, so I got Baby and Bag and headed to the car with Big Sister five steps behind me because it was imperative that Stuffed Poodle accompany us on this outing. Ruth finally caught up and closed the door behind her, and I dashed back up to the door to lock it. Only trouble was, it seemed to already be locked, with me never having laid a key to it. This lead to daughter questioning, doorknob jiggling, frustrated sighing, and finally just giving up. We had other fish to fry at that moment, and I figured if I couldn't get in my own house, no one else would be able to get in either. So then, we were backing out of the driveway when I noticed that something didn't feel right with the gas pedal. This lead to more frustrated sighing and a silent prayer that we would make it to our destination safely. When we got home, I picked up the mail, and found, to my complete exasperation, that I had received another ticket from the great state of Ohio on a vehicle I sold almost two years ago! So, we got in the house, by sneaking in through the garage, and I gave the kids a snack then immediately got on the internet to see if I could find a phone number of someone to talk to about this ticket. I was perched on my little computer stool, when my precious son, who was screaming his head off, grabbed my leg and tried to pull himself up onto my lap. His full weight on my leg made me lose my balance, so that I tummped off the stool, stepped on his finger and crushed the animal cookies he had deposited at my feet like an offering--not to mention that in the process, he managed to smear his gooey hands all over me, covering me with slimy cookie crumbs. When I got him under control and down for a nap, I took a look at the door and attempted to fix the problem, because it seemed to be just a matter of unsticking something that was stuck. I realized that it might be a bit bigger problem when what seems to be quite an important piece fell off and hit the floor with a "ting." It's a good thing my husband stocked the house with meals this weekend, because I'm pretty sure I would have burned the house down if I would have had to cook.

The good news is, the gas pedal problem seemed to pretty much work itself out while we were doing our running around, and CarMax is going to take care of the ticket. Also, Weston is in bed, so the screaming has stopped--coincidently so has my headache--and the animals cookie crumbs have been swept up. The door problem is still awaiting further attention from the Man of the house. So I guess "all's well that ends (mostly) well." If I wake up with a pain in my head tomorrow, I will be smarter than to get out of the bed!