Folks, this is the last year of my 20s. And you know what? I’m not even sad.
On Saturday, I had a fantastic day. We went out to breakfast, were successful in packing up more of the basement and catching up (a little anyway) on some laundry, and then in the evening our babysitter came over to let us go out to dinner and to see Mockingjay Part 1 (which, by the way, was totally awesome).
The only hitch in the day happened first thing in the morning. When I woke up, it was to the sound of my toddler, running around upstairs. This isn’t unusual. She sometimes stays in bed to read for a while, and sometimes comes out to play with her toys. This morning, she decided she was going to get started with breakfast. Much to my dismay, she began with eggs. And of COURSE, because toddlers are clumsy, she broke a couple. One in the kitchen, right in front of the refrigerator, which she stepped in, and tracked all the way back to my bedroom, where she broke the other one. Of course, right? Happy birthday to me. The first thing Hubby and I did when we got up was strip her of her egg-covered clothes, bleach the floor from kitchen to bedroom, and put everyone in the shower. Sheesh. Then, when we finally were all clean and dressed, there was no way I was cooking breakfast, so I got some Waffle House out of the deal! That was good.
Needless to say, we are now locking the fridge. It sounds ridiculous, but I am NOT cleaning up that mess again!