Until an hour ago, when my mother-in-law picked Ol up and the sitter came to hang with Jack, today was an absolute zero on a 1-10 scale. 10 being the best in case that needed clarification.The children were monstrous whineaholics who encouraged my repeated thinking and regular'ish use of every awful adjective in the most comprehensive thesaurus.

By 10:30am, I had Jack writing an essay on how he might better respect his mother and Oliver exiled to his room to calm his business down. Jack dared to ask me if he could write the same sentence six times in a row; appalled by his brazenness, I forcefully shot down that ludicrous plea.

Oliver did not calm his business down.

During the morning o' mayhem, we also got the car's oil changed, walked Percy, went to CVS twice, picked up the dry cleaning, got gas, exchanged words and played an insane amount of gin. The complete pleasure I felt when I beat Jack made me feel like an arse, but so be it.

When the babysitter walked in, I hugged her in a wildly enthusiastic manner and flew out of my house like there was a rocket on my bum. As if my car were not a beater sedan but instead a Ferrari, I hauled ass down Wisconsin and screeched happily to a stop in front of Georgetown Nails. This past hour has been flipping amazing, despite the fact that the gal next to me had something so wrong with her feet that the pedicurist has to razor them with an actual Microplane! I am borderline hurl.

Also I have a slight case of pinkeye which just seems gross and unnecessary when you're over the age of five. I still have to pack but am avoiding that like the damn plague!