Some days are harder than others

Wanna know why?

Because you come home from work on a Friday that’s been one of THOSE weeks with nights up late and mornings up early, and crabby co-workers, and not enough hours in the day, and possible seasonal affective disorder (stupid daylight savings time).

And you walk in the door and kiss your husband and adorable son who are both snuggled under a blanket on the couch.

“Mommy, change my diaper,” your little boy says.

“Did you go poo-poo?” you ask.

“No, pee pee!” he happily replies.

“Um…he’s not wearing a diaper. He’s in underwear,” your husband replies.

You remove your precious first born son from the couch to find a huge puddle of pee seeping in to two couch cushions. Couch cushions that you can’t exactly just throw in the washer and dryer with no worries that they’ll come out of the dryer the size of the couch in Barbie’s Dream House. Does such a couch exist? That is machine washable? If so, I’ll take two, please.

So down to the basement we go, to handwash couch cushions. Me, still in my business casual attire, laptop bag still on the floor at the front door.

Here’s what our couch currently looks like, with an inquisitive pee-er scoping out the computer as it snaps a shot:

So, 2/3 of my couch is unusable. And will be until the cushions air dry in the basement. Yeah, probably 3 days.

But that’s not even the worst part. My mom is staying the night tonight because she needs to be downtown late and doesn’t want to drive an hour home in the middle of the night. And she normally crashes on the couch. Well that’s not an option anymore.

So rearrange the living room furniture, we did. And there’s an air mattress smack dab in the middle of the living room. Which the inquisitive pee-er loves because, hello! Instant trampoline.

Oh bedtime, you can’t come soon enough! For both of us.


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