Why a vasectomy would be a good thing

Ugh. What a lousy day.

Chin up, mind you - no one died or was injured, which is always a plus. But for the first day off since the trip to the zoo it just plain SUCKED.

Sleep in? Never! The kids were up at the crack of dawn. In fact I found YaYa on the kitchen floor at 5 a.m., complaining about a stomach ache.

She was supposed to go with a friend's mother to a picnic/pool party in a neighboring county. When the time came she was still feeling ill but said she would be good to go. Fine and dandy. You could tell the Mom was leery of taking her but I told her the truth - YaYa suffers from chronic constipation (she's on occasional medicine for it) and sometimes stomach aches are par for the course. It's not like it's contagious.

Two hours later I'm eating soup in the dining room when the friend's father walks into the house with YaYa. She'd thrown up three times at the party, had to shower in the host's house, and then threw up in a bowl during the car ride home.

"Is [Mother] pissed?," I asked the Dad.

He laughed. "Oh, yeah!"

Sigh. I'm gonna hear about this one FOREVER, guaranteed.

Lisa was out with her Mom to get her nails done at a spa, a mother/daughter trip for her Mom's birthday. Fine, except the lady is awful, butchering her nails, dragging it on forever, and then abandoning them both halfway through, forcing someone else to take over. $40 down the tubes.

"Why didn't you tell the manager?" I asked.

"I couldn't. She was a student, it would have cost her her job," she says.

Ok.

Meanwhile the kids are atrocious and I'm already at my wits end (it's ~2 p.m. at this point).

Lisa comes home for but a minute before turning around and going to work. Sigh. Ok, I decide to pack the kids up and go get ice cream. There is not a peaceful moment to be found, with YaYa all but torturing LuLu in the backseat and Smiley doing his grunting behind me as the baby cries.

I was soooo ticked at YaYa. I'd hear a smack, cries would ensue, and she'd plead that she barely touched her sister - forgetting that the new van has that additional mirror and that I saw her haul off. I promised her that I'd let the other two walking kids have a free crack at her if I saw her do it again.

Then LuLu and Smiley got into it in the shopping cart at the store.

Meanwhile, at work, Lisa runs into her long-lost brother, Smiley's godparent, who has not called or stopped by for easily 16 months for (by his own admission) no good reason at all.. A 15 minute argument ensues, leaving Lisa in tears.

Grand.

At home the kids are in bed but torturing me. Because of his hearing/speech difficulties Smiley has this gawd awful high pitched screech that serves as his primary means of expression. It soooooooooooo wears on your eardrums and eventually works it's way under  your craw, wherever the heck that is. He won't stop.

LuLu, a whiner by nature, has picked up on the effectiveness of the screech in getting attention (good or bad) and has added it to her repertoire. She drones on endlessly.

YaYa won't stop kissing my a**, saying "I love you Daddy" with all the sincerity of Charlie Manson saying the Lord's Prayer.

Lump is displeased with her crib and will not lay down.

Someone spilled red food coloring all over my hardwood floor. There is crushed breakfast cereal throughout the house. My sheet is missing from my bed. There is poop smeared on the towel hanging in the bathroom and a turd in the bowl with no toilet paper.

I am in hell.

I even tried calling my Mom for solace but she didn't answer her phone.

This goes on until maybe half an hour ago, and dear God it's a wonder I didn't hop in the car and head for the hills.

Better tomorrows, as Jerry Taff always said, better tomorrows.