This song doesn't capture my situation exactly; however, when I am doing my Saturday chores, it does tend to run through my head.
Take for instance today. Here is a list of everything I got done before 3 pm:
- Woke up three times between midnight and 7 am because: 1) my son's tummy hurt 2) he couldn't get comfy to sleep and 3) he needed a drink of water.
- Cooked breakfast and managed not to burn a single thing, and it came out edible. Take that Rachel Ray!
- Did a load of laundry. (Let's get it started in here...)
- Did the dishes.
- Put the lawn mower battery on a charger.
- Did another load of laundry.
- Explained to my son AGAIN about the time I got a tooth injury playing football. This lead to a discussion of why it's called a root canal and a brief dental physiology lesson.
- Went to get lawn mower gas and had to convince my son it was not in his (nor my) best interest to get sour strings candy at 10:30 am.
- Mowed the grass and dodged a veritable horde of ground hornets with each pass through the side yard. (I'm sure if you had been here observing, it would have been akin to watching a 6'5" version of the Looney Tunes.)
- Stripped the beds.
- Had the neighbor kids over to play and keep Connor occupied for 11.25 minutes.
- Did another load of laundry.
- Cooked lunch.
- Shut and locked my door against invading children and puppy, so I could eat in peace and quiet and veg on TV for 30 minutes. (Ignored knocking twice.)
- Did another load of laundry.
- Put beer in fridge to chill.
- Blogged half an entry, said screw it, and cracked open a hot beer. I guess the rest of the housework will have to wait until tomorrow. After all, I also have to play the role of Mr. Dad, so it's now time to head off to my neighbor, Scott's, house and play some Olympic corn hole.
Mr. Mom rocking the sexy ass apron!
Enjoy your weekend!
