Report cards, and the ensuing days off from school, should be issued with coupons for big savings on spirits.
I am holding my breath until Tuesday, when that big yellow bus picks up 75% of my children. The bus left them here Wednesday afternoon, after a half day of school, and hasn't been back since. I can't think. I can't write. I can't even get to my computer because of barbie.com, disney.com and pbskids.org. I spend my days organizing sock washes and breaking up fights over toys. I have dishes piled so high that I can't even get to my coffee maker, so I am suffering the withdrawl headaches and my husband bought paper plates so he could feed the kids while I was at work.
So Tuesday the house will get a little quieter, and I will be down to one kid. I have plans.
I am going to grab a big black bag and hit the playroom. I am throwing away anything that came from McDonalds or Burger King. I am also throwing away anything broken and that includes the great Barbie Massacre. I have carnage of untold origin. Arms without bodies, torsos without legs, heads with bits of leaves or something stuck in tangled, scary hair. I am afraid that it is sending a very bad message to my son. It has to go, as do all the cars with no axles, the odd bits of games, and stray flashcards.
Oh this is going to be fun! And I have a box of wine to celebrate with!