Thursday, April 9, 2009

Today is Thursday, right?

So with a groan I rolled over in bed this morning and stared at my alarm clock. 7:14. What the hell? Somehow my 1.5 yr old had ended up in bed and my husband was looking at me like, I thought we agreed to make her sleep in her crib? Honey, I swear to God, I don't remember her coming into our bed, although I am sure that I'm the one who picked her up in the middle of the night and put her between us. For the life of me, I can't remember actually doing it. My four year old was running around crying because her older brother wouldn't play with her. Damn it, I wish she would just understand what AUTISM means already. He sometimes wants nothing to do wth her, and that is not her fault. Hell, the way she cries for attention, sometimes I don't want anything to do with her.
The bed starts to shake and I look my husband right in the eye. "Are you flipping serious? You woke me up at two in the morning for sex and you still aren't satisfied? You really are addicted!" He just gives me the evil grin and turns on flat screen hanging on the wall. "Now you're turning on PORN?" I shriek. "You're kids are awake!" I roll over and bury my head under the pillow. It's Thursday, right???
I make it into our store at around 1 pm. both my husband and our Hispanic, very illegal, employee look at me and give me a resounding, standing ovation. Yeah, fuck both of you, I think as I give them both the finger. They just laugh it off. Sometimes, no, I correct myself, all the time, our shop is like an episode of freaking Seinfeld. From the daily arrivals of the Hot Dog Man vendor (aka Hot Do Mike), radical customers, and never ending gossip, our store and atmosphere would be prime time. To bad all we do is run a garden center.