My house still smells like smoke. Last night I was patting myself on the back that we had enough leftover ham chowder for dinner. Then I burned it. And set my stove on fire. Again. What is wrong with me? We had Little Caesar’s pizza instead.
Danny has non-dairy whipped topping all over his head. We’re going to have to wash his hair tonight. I’m not going to bother doing it yet though because the fridge locks have been obsolete for awhile now and there is still sour cream, butter, yogurt, syrup and several varieties of jam in the fridge.
I thought Danny was doing good with potty training until I stepped in a puddle on the kitchen floor and a soggy spot on the carpet by the TV. Ew. Looks like it’s time to break out the carpet cleaner.
Joel has had a fever of 103 degrees for the past three days. If it’s not gone in the morning I guess I’ll be calling the doctor.
I started off my morning by figuring out that my email account had been hacked then dealing with the aftermath. Hackers suck. I tried to do some damage control but, as my husband put it, “the horse was already out of the barn.”
All I want to do is snuggle under my covers and either read or sleep but I have about a million and one things I need to do.
Tomorrow is Groundhog Day. I’m just really glad that I won’t have to relive this day over and over again like Bill Murray. Here’s hoping Punxsutawney Phil doesn’t see his shadow—I don’t know if I can make it through six more weeks of winter.
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