Papyrus Smear

It's 9pm and finally a moment to write...I am accompanied by my loving husband, a crackling fire, Monday Night Football, and a glass of Cabernet. It doesn't get much better than this. Let's see...my day began around 7, complete with my Starbucks and Good Morning America, followed by the gradual footsteps of Savannah, Somer, and finally my sleepyhead, Sydney. Next on the agenda was breakfast. Like routine, Savannah checked the weather, assessed her clothing options, dressed and then surveyed the contents of the cereal cupboard. She immediately began complaining about the choices, or shall I say the lack thereof, to which I responded with, "Too bad, then I guess you don't eat breakfast," followed by immediate guilt. Meanwhile, Sydney dressed and quickly began complaining about her BRAND NEW tennis shoes feeling too big. Just yesterday, in the middle of Payless, I probably said about ten times - "Are you sure they fit? They're not too big, not too small? Ok, we'll buy them, but I don't want to hear ONE word come Gym day about them not fitting...do you hear me?!?!" Anyway, I think I failed to mention that by this time, Somer started following me, yelling, "I'm stinky." So, in between signing Friday folders and writing checks for this week's lunch money, I grabbed some toilet paper, stuffed Sydney's shoes - in hopes to dispel her whining - changed Somer's diaper, scrambled eggs and made toast. We finally made it out the door, Sydney in tears over her tennis shoes that were too big, Savannah huffing and puffing over my jacket I wouldn't let her wear, and Somer throwing a fit over her jacket that failed to zip. You can imagine my relief, as if in slow motion, I pushed the automatic door button on my van, and watched as Savannah and Sydney kissed me good-bye and entered Central Elementary School. From there, I stopped at Tim Hortons for yet another cup of coffee and then to Meijer's for some much needed groceries to replace the tumbleweeds in my refridgerator. Morning quickly turned to afternoon and before long, it was time for Savannah and Sydney's arrival. When they walked in the door, it was clear that the morning's happenings were by this time, thankfully forgotten. They quickly consumed the sliced apples and caramel dip their guilty and remorseful mother had prepared, rehearsed the events of their day, and helped prepare for dinner. Hours later, all three are in bed, fire crackling, and Al Michael commentating. And that, my friends, is my Monday.