It’s been an “You’ve GOT to be KIDDING me” day here.  Asa has a cold and is all stuffy and wheezy.  He’s also teething.  Even with Tylenol, he screamed most of the day.

I took the big kids to school and came home to work on some stuff for my “summer job” at church.  Everytime I’d get in a good rhythm while working on the summer literature, I’d hear a nice, loud:  WWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

By the time I finally got the little bugger feed and settled down, it was time for me to go pick the kids up from school.

I get everybody home, and although I actually made a yummy lunch today, no one ate it.  Not even me.  Know how you make something and then you totally don’t want it?  What’s up with that anyway?

After 4 episodes of The Smurfs, I decided I really did want lunch after all. I raided Lydia’s to go box from last night’s dinner and found two left over chicken strips.  About the time I got one piece in my mouth, the bugger boy started crying. I leaned over to pick him up and dropped the stupid piece of chicken out of my mouth and onto the floor. Before I had time to react, guess what happened? Bet you think the dog ate it, right? Nope. Asa threw up on it!!! YUCK! So I let the dog have it after all.

So now I’ve picked up the baby, watched him throw up on my discarded chicken, and I’m standing there trying to figure out what to do next…and then I feel wet on my fingers. The *&(*@#^ dog got BOTH of my pieces of chickens…stupid dog. You’ve GOT to be KIDDING me!