Your writer wife stayed at home with the kids while you were away, so there are a few things you should know.
That is not a pile of horse dung on the porch. It is clay which the youngest dug out of the garden. She's drying it and planning to dye it bright colors and sell it to the neighboring children as playdoh. Her dress is probably permanently brown now, but I wrote 700 words while she made her first solid entrepreneurial venture. Oh, I should get her out of the bath now. I think it's been two hours.
The broken glassware in the garbage happened when I tried to walk through the big fight scene using our children and the dog as stand-ins for my characters. The dog does not follow directions well, but we do think it's possible for Leonel to throw Patricia forward in a slingshot motion like they did in that roller derby movie. Next time, though, we're going to set up more pillows. The bruises will heal quickly, I'm sure.
The smell is because Dr Liu went on this 1200 word rant against the establishment while I was cooking a frozen pizza. Apparently my villain talks louder than the timer on our oven, but not louder than the smoke alarm. I still fed us though. Both girls seemed pleased with peanut butter spoons and popcorn. The big girl even cooked the popcorn. She didn't trust me to listen for the slow down of popping kernels. I don't blame her.
There was a phone call, I think. But I didn't answer it. It wasn't a publisher on the Caller ID, so I figured it couldn't have been that important. If it was about the car, I'm sure they'll call back.
Oh, you're home! I missed you. Could you put the kids to bed? Yes, they're still up. What do you mean, it's 10:30? Why is the dog sticky? Okay, okay . . . just a few more pages. I love you, too.
This is so me! My husband comes home one day and sees a mountain of blankets in the livingroom. It's the rubble left from the kids castle that was destroyed during the Nerf battle of 1553...not my lack of folding laundry. So what if I wrote up a short during the chaos....I'll get to the cleanup tomorrow.
ReplyDeleteBwahahahaha! Oh, I loved this! Loved this!
ReplyDeleteThose meal-destroying rants. They happen all the time . . .
Your kids get peanut-butter spoons? Don't tell mine. They get Nutella ...
And my husby was wondering why all of our granddaughter's toys were in our bedroom. Well...that's where the computer is...
This is hysterical! You are so nice and calm too!
ReplyDeleteHA HA! Yep! When I have a deadline and my hubby is away, strange things occur...
ReplyDeleteLOL. Your villain talks louder than the oven but not the smoke alarm. Awesome.
ReplyDeleteI can totally relate to this. I am somewhat passive aggressive when I feel like my husband is out too late. Like tonight, when he will come home to a messy kitchen and be asked sweetly to please help. Boo ya.