The morning came too early and seemed painful. My steamy friend of caffeinated bliss wasn’t enough to open my blurry eyes. My tummy was awkwardly rumbly and gurgling while I tried to wrangle my teething infant and sniffly toddler, but breakfast was not to be had for mommy right. Not then, anyway.
My toddler wrangled me, tugging at my loose-fitting pants, determined to rip them off if I didn’t respond to her unspecified request rightthatverysecond, as my hands were covered in chicken-y goo and my patience began to wear. My infant tried to free himself from his
jail bouncy chair.
Preparing the chicken, I managed to do this..
.. and I was only trying to get ready to do this..
..all while I ran, and reran, and re-prepped loads of this..
..while my toddler, quite disgruntled, took matters into her own hands to unravel the last bits of my patience..
..or should I say, toilet paper. The end.
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