And then the phone rang.
I was busted by another stage mother for not attending the high school musical version of Aida currently being performed at the Dancer's school.
Guess I better get in the shower and scoot on out the door......
Dang. It was a rough morning around here. A very yelly and cranky and pick on your younger sister and get your face ripped off for it kind of morning. A parents turn on each other because the kids are out of control kind of morning. The kind of morning that makes me wish that I'd had more perspective about being raped in Brooklyn - figured it was just part of the Welcome Wagon activities - and stayed the hell in New York with the job that paid more and the children left far behind.
Did you know moms think that kind of thing? They do. I'm sure my mom did.
And yeah, I just made a joke about being raped. We all process things in our way, right?
So we ended up with a conversation like this:
Me: I have a solution to our problem with the kids and it doesn't involve ebay, duct tape or incendiary material.
MathMan: Lay it on me.
Me: You and I will get divorced and live in separate places and each of us will take one kid.
MathMan: (stares at me, eyebrows raised)
Me: Oh, yeah, I almost forgot the most important part.
MathMan: I'm waiting.
Me: We would still get together for sex three times a week.
MathMan: We'd have more sex that way.
Okay, y'all. I've gotta roll. I may not get all the housework done that I'd planned, but maybe I'll be able to catch a nap in between intermissions!