The following post recounts 10 minutes of continuous uninterrupted moments of “What The Fuck?”
I crashed out on the couch at 9pm. I awoke from a deep sleep and sleeping well is not my forte. I was laying down but my legs were demonstrating the ‘butterfly’ stretch. Wow! I slept like this? Wtf?(uncertain inner monologue).
I was exceptionally comfortable. This was the 30 seconds of calm before the shit storm. I was groggy but alert enough to realize that the hubbs who I’d been affectionately cuddling with earlier had completely abandoned me. I was alone, and had been thrown to the wolves.
I sat up and turned around to find all 3 children strewn about the living room completely passed out. Wtf? (confused inner monologue).
I made my way to the 4 year old who gets priority for the simple fact that in certain circumstances of exhaustion, fails to make his way to the john. I picked him up and was immediately soaked in pee. Wtf? (still inner monologue but with a slight disappointed sigh added in for emphasis).
I changed his clothes and put him to bed. Sorry, It was 11:30 pm and I was not putting him in the shower. Mommy fail? Whateves! Mommy tired.
While making my way to the bathroom to pee, I noticed a silver spoon coated in dry crusted peanut butter shmegma shimmering in the glow of ” Mr. Peebody’s” Spider-Man nightlight. Wtf? Why is that there? Gross (inner monologue; questioning my parenting skills).
Upon exiting the facilities, the ball of my foot was violently met with a hard jagged object almost as painful as a Lego in the dark…yet different. A nectarine pit? At the foot of my bed? Wtf? ( whimpering inner monologue).
I took that son of a bitch to the bathroom trash can and in my peripheral vision found a visitor in the form of a cricket galavanting around my bathtub. Wtf? (now in a “fearful of creepy crawlys” whisper). What else explores my house when I’m sleeping?
I scooped him up and took him outside. Why not kill him you might ask? Crickets are supposed to be good luck and I’m not messing with that ju ju. After releasing “Jiminy” into the wild I noticed that the designated backyard Playdoh station had been completely neglected. All lids had been left off for said Playdoh to dry out and become “rockdoh.” Wtf? (amplified disappointed whisper).
That was it! I was going to bed. I should have just stayed on the damn couch! While reaching to remove the unnecessary amount of throw pillows from my bed so I could actually sleep in it, I felt a sharp pain. What’s jabbing me right below my left nipple? A penny! In the shelf bra of my nightshirt!
Wtf? How? Why?(pissed off whisper). Honest Abe was getting fresh and I was not in the mood. I removed the penny from my minuscule excuse of a breast and set it on my nightstand. I had to keep it safe so it could be transferred to my change jar in the morning. Find a penny, pick it up…blah, blah, blah.
My coin concentration was broken by my hubby’s insanely loud snoring. Watching him sleep deeply and peacefully, I was feeling the sting of abandonment. I mean, we’re supposed to be a team!
I pulled back the covers with force…to make myself feel better, and found a slice of black forest ham and a strawberry entwined in my sheets. Plastic of course, from the ever popular play kitchen. Not real food! Geezus, I’m not raising savages, but again WTF?(now in a normal “I’m gonna cut someone” conversation voice-emphasis on the last initial).
The lumberjack sawing logs next to me didn’t even flinch. I did what any respectable loving wife would do.
I threw one of many throw pillows(hence the name) at his face and jabbed him in the ribs with my elbow. Just enough to make him snort like a pig, wake up confused and roll over in uncertainty. The following morning he asked “WTf was that last night?” Undeniably perfect segue. OHHH, let me tell you about WTF?
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