A Mess

The last week was one of my busiest all year. The Children's Choir performed their spring musical this weekend. I'm involved, Colin's involved, we're busy! Prep for that was huge. Time for that was emence. Time for all the other things that still had to be done came from my sleeping time. And let's just be honest, a bunch of stuff didn't get done at all - you should see my ironing pile! The inside of the car looked like a nuclear bomb went off. The only reason poor Colin's sheets got changed is because the cat managed to get in there and take a nap causing an Asthma attack. You can write your name on every surface in my house provided you can find the surface, the stuff in the refrigerator is now a science experiment, the toilets are desperate (I live with boys) and, and, and, ....I digress. 

Anyway, this was a little nugget from Colin. He's said this before. I don't know, maybe he's right. 

We drive through McDonalds on the way to the first program on Friday night. I won't tell you how many other times we had driven through. My poor child. He needed to eat, we needed to go, McDs is on the way, he'll eat it, and I needed Diet Coke bad (back on the sauce people, back on it hard). 

So we pull out. I'm trying to drive, open his apple juice, his apple dippers (we do eat some of the healthy stuff too) and pass it back to him while avoiding people who don't know how to drive. And I'm desperate for the first sip of my DC. I always ask for extra ice because I like my drink cold - I want it cold for a long time and I want it cold all the way to the bottom. Well, bless McD's heart, they want me to have every drop of sauce I deserve for my hard earned dollar so they fill it to the rim. My cup overfloweth, no doubt. 

I get my cup out, I see a red light coming, I begin to break, I sip, I tip, DC dribbles down my choir shirt, it's cold, it's wet, it's a mess. 

"Ahhhhh, Oh for crying out loud! wipe, soak, wipe, break, stop, breath, sip again and again and once again ...Colin, your Mommy's a mess. Do you know this? Your Mommy's a mess!" 

With his little mouth full of apples he responds, "God shoudda made you a boy."