Ugh. Hells bells.
I am so dang tired, drained, and just want to nap today. Mr. C’s not up for that. Can’t see one kitchen counter… And then there is this picture.
This is what stinks. This is what I would see women doing in my old world of Finn-land upbringing: there’s no TV on (nor in the home for that matter), and somehow they are hanging laundry on the line while the kids play school and bread is rising on the counter. Or packing up all 8 of them and heading to a lake. Bringing in sleeping babies and toddlers who nap and then doing the household thing.
Me? I’m the one who needs the nap and my toddler won’t sleep.
Hells bells.
photo by bignoseduglyguy
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Don’t worry. There’s no bread rising over here, and I might have heard R-kids fighting in the background while I type. I’ve got to work up here in the hot-oven office for another half hour and I’ve got nothing to throw in the real oven downstairs for dinner and no idea how/where I’ll drum that up. Woo hoo! In it with ya girl!
I’m still dying over “hells bells”.
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