Living Murphy's Law

[Our house this morning between 8:30 and 9:00]:

I'm running water for my shower, when Weston comes in yelling at me that my phone is ringing. I shut off the water and make a bee-line for my phone, since I am awaiting news of my grandfather's health after a heart attack yesterday morning. I missed the call, but sure enough it was my mom with the expected update. I dial her back. She doesn't answer. So, I put off the shower and sit by the phone. It doesn't ring, and it doesn't ring. Finally, I give up and head back to the bathroom. I strategically place the phone near the shower and hop in. Still it doesn't ring. I step out of the shower a few moments later to a cacophony of cries from the smallest members of my family. I throw a towel around myself and rush out of the bathroom, where the noise grows increasingly louder. Weston is screaming and crying and saying over and over, "I threw up," while Ruth is chanting "Weston threw up" and trying her best to keep her other brother away from the mess, which makes him super-angry. It is then, my friends, that the phone rings. Obviously, I couldn't get to it. I scooped up the smallest child, exposing my backside to the world (or whoever might have been standing on my front porch), and simultaneously herded the sick one into the bathroom with instructions to wait for me. I then successfully trapped Max in his booster seat, while exposing other parts of my still-wet body to whoever might be looking in my kitchen windows. I had no time to feel embarrassed about these actions. I shove a plate of food in front of the wee one, while in the background Ruth's chanting continues and Weston is inquiring at the top of his voice when he can come out of the bathroom. I put him off a moment longer so that I can dash back into my bathroom for my robe. (Why I didn't think of that in the first place, I will never know). Meanwhile, Jeff is trying to conduct a dignified business call and is no-doubt impressing the pants off whichever client is being exposed to all this hullabaloo. Ultimately, everyone is calm and collected. The mess is cleaned up. The noise has not reached the client's ears in any discernible way. And, I finally connected with my mom and received the update I had been waiting for. It's truly a wonder that people can survive with the sort of sustained insanity that goes on around here, but we are living proof that it can be done.