I was going to post something VERY IMPORTANT about taxes and shock politics but life got in the way. My tall little girl climbed up on her brand spanking new top bunk and spilled about a half a glass of milk on her mattress tonight. Zoinks. She blotted the spot with towels and tried to hide it from me but to no avail. Mommies are like blood hounds sometimes.
So, tomorrow, my priority will be to clean the mattress - a process I will continue over the next few days in the (probably vain) hope that the mattress won't stink. Shouldn't be too much of a deal, right?
But, unhappily, I am gripped with anxiety over the thought. Perimenopause is fun, fun, fun. It will take everything I can muster to get that job done tomorrow as I am gripped by the certainty of failure. Great place to be. Stifling. Paralyzing. I am resolved to not cry over the spilt milk, though. It would probably make me giggle and defeat the purpose of having a good cry in the first place.
Stay tuned. Tomorrow, we return to the VERY IMPORTANT POST. Or not.
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