Thursday, May 9, 2013

It's always five o'clock somewhere

It’s one of those days where I find myself cleaning up after breakfast around 11 am – hours after anything was consumed - dead tired. How do they make such a mess every time they eat? When I – to the soundtrack of yelling kids and a fussing baby - put the almost warm milk back in the fridge (hoping it has not gone bad), I find myself eyeing the chilled cooking wine in the door. Oh sweet release.


I didn’t *really* consider having a drink of course, but I thought it would be funny to write (if I ever got a moment); it’s the kind of thing other blogging mothers of lots of kids write at times when things get a little too crazy...

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