Why do I look forward to weekends?
Why do I think for one moment that the weekend is going to be better than the week?
I woke up Saturday morning, at the usual week day time, with two diapers to change, three children to feed, and a huge sleep hangover daydreaming about a two hour nap in my future. Surely I could get a nap since my husband was home, it being the weekend and all. Never mind that I haven't had a weekend nap in three years or that my husband's idea of helping is to take one child outside with him giving me a "little break". I was going to get a nap so therefore I was happy. I even made chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast I was so giddy for that nap.
An hour later (yes, an hour later) the husband awoke and declared the air-conditioner not working and, since he is Super Fix-It Man, he would go up to the attic and take a look and have it working in no time. Whatever. Just be down quickly so I can get that nap.
I wasn't expecting the crash and the swearing that followed.
In my husband's quest for our air-conditioning answers, he took a wrong turn and put his leg through the ceiling.
**I totally thought of how the internets would want a picture of the huge, gaping hole in my ceiling, but when I showed up minutes later with camera in tow, the husband told me there was no way I would be posting that on my effing blog unless I wanted to be divorced within the week. I did stop a second to think that one over, but then decided you all are pretty smart, so imagine a huge, gaping hole in the ceiling here.**
So now I had a hole in my ceiling.
Nail polish on our walls, fabric marker on the boy's walls, ugly purple wallpaper in the bathroom, what's a hole in the ceiling? It's not like we ever have company here.
But apparently a hole in the ceiling is a very. big. deal. The husband who never swears was really making up for lost time up there. The boys were scared. The baby was crying. I was trying really, really hard not to laugh myself crying over my pancakes.
Of course, a hole in the ceiling needs repaired right away, so off to the the home improvement store the husband went leaving me with all three children which was seriously cutting into my nap time, but it was still early, my nap would come. And now it was hot. Very hot. And we had no air-conditioning. Crap.
Raise your hand if you know anything about drywall?
For those of you who don't, there's priming and sanding and patching and you do something the first day and then go over it again the next day and then do a little more the day after that until you can finally sand it and paint it and now my husband's little mistake is taking up most of Sunday and every. single. evening this week to completely fix. Yeah.
So, no. I never did get that nap.
And I still don't have any air-conditioning.
I hate weekends.
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