when it rains...

Oh okay, I admit it--that's a bit melodramatic. But we are having a rough morning around here.

My poor little Annie. She woke up this morning with snot crusted all over her face. Definitely NOT a pretty picture! I mean it--it was everywhere...her cheeks, her eyebrows, her chin. Frankly, quite disgusting. Most people, I'm sure, could never have slept through this. But most people couldn't sleep through a nuclear holocaust either, though I'm fairly certain that Annie could. Anyway, I managed to get the poor girl all cleaned up. She's obviously not feeling her best, but wouldn't you know it's field trip day. Definitely not the day she wants to stay home stuck in bed. So we've stuffed her little purse full of tissues...but, in true Annie fashion, she forget to take her purse with her.

Max is still not dressed. He's protesting my choice of outfits. It's generally not worth the battle, but the shirt he wants is in the laundry...and I've drawn the line at digging clothes out of the hamper for him to wear. So, yes, he did wear his pjs out to the bus stop.

As I opened the door to come back in and renew our battle, Taco went running out. Hardly surprising...he does it whenever possible. However, today, instead of running over for a quick chomp on the grass before allowing me to grab him and carry his fat butt back in, he chose to run away from me. Eventually, I managed to get him. But upon opening the door, Max cries out, "Ewwww. Look what Taco did!" Yes, awaiting me inside is large pile of cat barf. Gee, thanks Taco. I'm sure there will be more to follow, considering the grass he managed to eat during his brief stint of freedom.

I suppose this really isn't all that unusual a start to a day around here. However, I'm working a slight disadvantage this morning. Last evening, in true "Grace" fashion (my own mother bestowed that nickname upon me, so you imagine how klutzy I must be), I trashed my ankle. Doing my responsible-citizen routine of taking the day's junk mail out to the recycle pile in the garage, I somehow came off the step and landed on the toe of my husband's big clunky boot. My ankle twisted and I went down hard on the cement, glasses flying off my head and skidding about 8 feet across the floor. My glasses were unscathed, but the same could not be said for me. I now have two knees in lovely shades of black and an extremely sore and swollen ankle. The ankle is obviously not broken, but I'm hobbling none-the-less.

And to add insult to injury...I reinflamed my tendon problem in my hand. All I was doing was grabbing laundry from the hamper and throwing it into the clothes basket. I let out a pathetic yelp as the pain went searing up my finger through my palm. And now I cannot close my hand again, can't pick up or grip anything with my right hand. Back to writing left-handed, I guess. Not the end of the world, I know...but I thought that particular painful annoyance was behind me.

On a brighter note, it is supposed to be a gorgeous day here. So I think I will just head to the backyard with Max, where he can play in the sandbox and I can read a book between road and tunnel building. What could possibly go wrong out there? And noone had better say, "Bee-stings, bird droppings, or sand in the underwear."

Quote of the day:
"Life's not fair." --Scar