Wherein I lament, yet again, about Wanting Kids to Be Kids and have room for their art projects and infinite legos, and Wanting To Walk A Path to the Fridge. Two competing ideals. I cannot have both.
I want to be Charming and Loving Earth Mother. I end up being Cranky Monster Mama.
I asked them to clean up the basement because I couldn't walk down the stairs anymore without climbing over boxes. I couldn't open the door to the fridge. They did. I then spent another 20 minutes throwing out all the little pieces of garbage they missed. (And they had vacuumed, too.)
I threw out a kite. Every 5-10 years, some Well Meaning friend or relative buys us a kite. I don't know how to fly a kite. This large, delicate monstrosity sits around and mocks me until it mercifully is broken. I threw out this kite incarnation and it isn't broken yet. I lost track of how long it's been living with us. I feel better.
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