So many bad days start the day before and just bleed through the fabric into the next. I drove home late from work Thursday night, white-knuckled through pelting rain, to a very dark house: No electricity. The living room was decorated in “Early Crypt” with a dozen candles all around.
I wearily undressed, lay down, and couldn’t sleep. I finally drifted off about five minutes before every light in the house came on, like some kind of cruel light shock therapy. Well, at least I would be able to shower later. We would have to rush the next morning to get to an all-day writing conference for my two teens on the other side of town. Hopefully, the youngest could have a play date with his bud. I would get so much done!
That was the last happy thought for the next 24 hours.
The electricity pooped out after my shower. Ross, my seven-year-old, came crying hysterically to the bathroom door, “Ryan and Risa drank all the milk! Now I can’t have cereal!” The words were barely intelligible through the sobs. Since lowering my eating standards with the third child, I couldn’t blame him: He’s hardly known a hot breakfast and was completely disoriented.
“Don’t worry, I’ll stop at McDonald’s,” I said as I grabbed the only non-wrinkled clothes I could find – the ones I had worn to work the night before. I’ll change before I go in to work tonight. I’ll have time, I thought.
Since the drive-thru had an incalculable number of vehicles, we went inside and it was there that I got a good look at my kids. Ross was wearing pants that were about two inches too short with the knees completely ripped out. You can imagine the teens who weren’t able to shower before we left: Just plain greasy.
On the way to the conference, I find out that Ross will be spending the day with me. It seems that the stomach virus had reared its ugly head at his friend’s house. I was determined to not let that get in the way of my day, by golly. Surely that would be the only glitch…….
To be continued.