Princess is stomping down the stairs, fake-crying and saying "Today is the worstest worstest day of my life!" What could drive her to such despair? I wouldn't let her stand at Gman's door and taunt him while he's in a time out for punching her.
Now, I on the other hand can quite legitimately say today is the worstest worstest day for me:
Gman had us up on and off for the first half of last night because he kept screaming out in his sleep...apparently his siblings were repeatedly torturing him in his dreams. As soon as he finally settled down...Al's bodily fluids started pouring all over the place at 4am, and Princess's started at 4:20am. Sing with me, to the tune of 12 Days of Christmas:
5 pounds lost by Al in one morning,
4 loads of disgusting laundry,
3 bathroom scrubbings (the same bathroom),
2 grocery store trips,
1 carpet cleaning
and $110 dollars in doctor and pharmacy co-paaaaaaaays.
And that only takes us up to 1:30pm!
As of about 4:00pm, Gman is beginning to show signs that he too might be getting in on the fun.
Desperately looking for a brighter side: Maybe tomorrow will be the worstest worstest worstest day, making today seem like a day in the park.
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