It seems, of late, that the children have a well orchestrated schedule worked out. They fake not knowing the time, the date or the flow of a day because the clearly know how to tag-team pushing me to my limits these days with swiss-watch-like precision.
It goes from whining to not finishing homework, to starting eating without sitting down, to standing up during every meal, to leaving a needed book at school, to forgetting the math on the table, to interrupting every word that comes out of my mouth, to glad-handling your brother's body because he won't give you some worthless piece of plastic that you've had NO interest in for the past 4 years, to refusing to take the time to poop properly, to peppering me with the never ending Mom Mom Mom Mom Mom, to leaving the door open (again), to leaving your new game where the dog chomps it to bits, to not drinking your milk (again), to leaving clothes all over the damn place, to having no idea where your sports gear is, to leaving that sports gear all over the greater Minneapolis area, to intentionally bugging your brother, to leaving your dishes at the table (again), and for the curtain call, acting like a victim of child abuse when I get upset about ANY of the above.
It's been a bit of a rough week.
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