It doesn't matter if I have just mopped the whole damn house, within 30 seconds of being done, there will be food on the floor.
I am totally used to it, and picking it up is just part of my day to day life now...
Except yesterday, when I ran to the Grocery Store by myself and left Husband in charge.
I got home, headed for the front door, and there was an entire bag of Goldfish just dumped on the floor.
Like... seven inches into the house, right smack in the middle of the entrance to our home...a whole bag of Goldfish chillin' out like... "Haaaaay. Come on in the water's fine!"
I mean COME ON... This is like freaking comical now, that I honestly can't even step one foot into my house without stepping into a pile of
I stop to first, take a picture, and second, laugh, before heading inside with 7 bags of groceries in one trip (cause somewhere out there, there is a grocery carrying competition that I am training for) and I approach Husband, who has clearly lost all control in the 25 minutes that I've been gone.
"Hey, Uh... there's an entire bag of goldfish like... at our front door."
He looked at me, and if looks could kill, well, then that would have been the end of this blog.
"I know..." he says... apparently standing on the edge of an invisible cliff...
"They don't stop moving! Ever."
I can't even look at him because I just want to laugh in his face.
For some reason I find it absolutely hysterical when our kids stress him out.
It is like a mini victory in my brain, like he just handed me a trophy and said...
"I don't know how you do it."
I mean he didn't say it, but when the kids stress him out, it feels like he did.
If being a Mother was easy, then... Dads would do it...amIright?!