Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Home Life

It's 5:36

The house is a mess.

There are flies buzzing around my head as I type because Monica left the door open.

I went to put expensive professional pics into a frame and found them mangled on the floor by the pint-sized subject of aforementioned photos.

Monica started whining for the 37th time that she wanted Daddy to come home.

I snapped and, while pacing anxiously about my toy littered house, said, rather rudley, that Daddy will be home when he gets home and not a minute sooner.


"Want a raisin, Mama?"

And, with a little dried fruit and a smile, all the stress melts and you realize what really matters.

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