Please, someone. Send wine and waffles and a stack of People magazines. We are having ourselves a DAY. All I need now is for one or all of my dogs to run away and I'll officially just head right to bed to end the day immediately. But that's a joke, so Karma - please move along.

Elaborate, you say! Certainly. It'll be my pleasure.

Duke hasn't slept for the last two nights. But you know that about him. So moving right along.

This morning when he alerted me to the fact that the day had begun at roughly 5am, we got up and I shuffled around the kitchen making some coffee and truly just being normal because I can't pretend after a year that this is so out of the ordinary for us. But early is still early and I could go for sleeping in until 6:30 just the one time. Anyway.

Duke apparently learned some motor skills last night because he got in the fridge, removed the lid from a full gallon of milk, and poured himself a nice little bath on my kitchen floor. George immediately offered to help clean it up, but I'm like, listen bud, you might be lactose intolerant and I'm not taking that risk, so I shooed him out of the kitchen for the next twenty minutes (he has to be reminded every .24 seconds, you know?). But I'm trying to be positive, so maybe milk is the secret to shiny wood floors? And Duke sure had a wonderful time splashing around in it, so we'll take our wins where we can find them.


I mopped my kitchen while it was still dark outside, but that's beside the point and only important to know because I'm whining and I like having a case, so anyway, I carried on with the clean-up. Plopping my milk soaked baby in the bathtub, I moved forward and wept my sorrows into my 'gram stories. And then I saw it or heard it -- I can't remember which happened first. Little turd floaties in the bath and they just kept populating. Bloop bloop bloop. And Duke kindly scooped one up and handed it to me.

I obviously had to pluck these things from the tub, and while I did that, Duke dropped the toilet seat and 'bout shocked his own heart out of service from fear. He. Went. Bananas.

I promptly went upstairs and asked Ryan to go ahead and just call in sick because if he leaves me here alone today, I might need a nice fashionable straight-jacket by the time he gets back.

He's not feeling that, so Duke waved goodbye to Daddy, and I wiped away a tear.

***

We tried to turn things around and kind of did, unless you count the part where I forgot to rinse conditioner out of my hair. I also forgot my sunglasses, and Duke won't wear his....so you know where this is going. I casually tried to pretend that nobody noticed me wearing infinitesimal baby glasses with grease ball hair.

Anyway, I swung by Meijers to fill my cart with alcohol and ice cream and a sprinkler so I don't look like a shitty mom at the check out line. Somehow, we made it through the day. Nobody ran away, I'm not in a padded room, and PS. Beauty and the Beast is on Netflix

I'm about to warm up my baby boy a bottle and we're going to snuggle it out on the couch.

Happy 2nd day of summer ya'll. Cheers to global warming and 90-degree Septembers!