Monday, February 14, 2011

Loves Me...Loves Me Not

I awoke from sweet, gentle repose this early morning to the heaving and retching of Potter throwing up the pieces of rug he has eaten...loves me not.

Scott volunteered to go downstairs and clean it up...loves me.

No Cherry Coke Zero in the vending machine...loves me not.

Yvonne brought in donuts to celebrate her long awaited return from the Far East...loves me.

Three control testing validation meetings on my calendar for today...loves me not.

One rescheduled, which meant I could leave work early...loves me.

One ran 30 minutes longer, which meant I couldn't leave as early as I would have liked...loves me not.

Despite only having an alleged 5 miles worth of gasoline remaining in my car and for some reason not bringing my purse to the gym, manage to get home and to the gas station without having to coast...LOVES ME.


I like Valentine's Day, because I can compare how well Morgan writes her name to other kids in her class. (Nice mom, huh?) She's getting better, but I am no longer hovering, so there was many an "a" and "n" that appeared backwards on her own cards. I figured that is my present to the other moms out there. "See, that girl can't even write her name properly."


Technically, Scott and I are planning a long weekend trip as our Valentine's gift, but that did not stop me from getting him something I knew he cherish with every fiber of his body...a soup ladle. We didn't own a soup ladle. I don't know how that is possible, because we (and by we, I mean Scott) make soup all the time. Now we won't have to use our measuring cup to scoop it out. Best. Present. Ever.


Getting out from the shower I suddenly couldn't remember where I took my glasses off. Since I'm almost blind and my upstairs looks like Potter ate all our clothes and then threw them up again all over every inch of space, I spent at least 10 minutes looking for them. Have now made a commitment to wake up when Scott does tomorrow in an effort to regain control of my laundry situation. Worst. Present. Ever.

No comments:

Post a Comment