Bitchy MacBitch

I was going to write a funny post about all the hilariously varied things you might find in my (or any other mother’s) cart at Wal-Mart – Spiderman party favours! Mini muffin pans! Sleeping pills! Sugar-free candy! Personal lubricant! Ziploc bags! – but my sense of humour is GONE, people. Gone. I am a bitch. I am the kind of bitch you might be if, say, you had been enjoying the sunshine and the melting snow and you had been thinking about your gorgeous perennial garden, and suddenly it’s minus twenty and snowing. Say.

Yesterday when the cold weather hit I actually thought, it will be so pleasant to have a nice indoors-y day. But suddenly, my goodness, the kids were SO IRRITATING, what with their constant need for a snack, and for attention, and for all the other things that young children might need in a day. And since that’s my job, for goodness’ sake, I had to attend to those needs, and they were SO IRRITATING. Of course as my husband points out, the children are not so much more irritating than normal, it’s me: I am more irritable. Hmm. He has a point. My mood isn’t exactly improving with the thought that he is out of town next week, which really puts a cramp in my style, if you know what I’m saying. I mean, I like me my vino and NYPD Blue reruns and all, but I’m sad about it. Boo hoo, poor me.

Fortunately for everyone involved, the boys went to preschool this afternoon and I am left, with my bitchiness, to take the dog for a nice long FREEZING walk on the icy, treacherous sidewalks. So here I go.

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