9 a.m. I really want to make something awesome for dinner tonight. My family rocks, they deserve a great meal. I’ll make a big pot of sauce! And spaghetti! And chicken cutlet parmesan! With meatballs! And garlic bread! And a really nice salad on the side, so we all get our greens of course. You know, I rock as a mom. I really do.
10 a.m. I can’t wait to start cooking. Shit, wait. I have no chop meat. But meatballs are Little M’s favorite. Okay, no problem. I’ll just go to the store and pick some up after I finish the dishes.
10:30 a.m. I actually need a shower first. I’ll go out and get the chop meat after.
11 a.m. I just remembered we have no lettuce either. I can grab some when I get the chop meat. Eh, who am I kidding? My kids wouldn’t touch a piece of lettuce if it were dipped in chocolate and covered with sprinkles. But I’ll still get the chop meat, Little M really likes meatballs.
11:30 a.m. Lunch time! I’ll go out and get the chop meat after I make the kids’ lunch.
12. p.m. Oh, Little D fell asleep. I’m not waking her up just to go to the store. I’ll go out and get the chop meat after she gets up.
1 p.m. Hmm. Don’t think I have time to get the chop meat now. The kids have doctor’s appointments in a little bit. I can always swing by the supermarket on the way home. Yep, that’s what I’ll do.
2 p.m. Why is this stupid office always crowded? A thousand doctors in the damn practice, and yet none of them are ever here. Where are they? What are they doing? Do they all specialize in pediatric neurosurgery on the side? And why won’t this snot-covered little boy sneeze on his own mother? Ick.
3 p.m. I should be on my way home by now. My beautiful dinner won’t cook itself. And if I have to shove one more tongue depressor at Little D in a feeble attempt to distract her from trying to run out the door, I’m going to stab someone with a dirty needle from the big red biohazard box. Am I ever getting the hell out of here??
4. p.m. Jeez, I thought that would never end. Oh look, it’s the supermarket! Imagine me dragging these miserable kids in there right now for freaking MEATBALLS? HA! Bye supermarket!
4:15 p.m. Um, so I just spent two hours listening to one kid beg me every five minutes to go home so he could play Wii while trying desperately to keep the other from crawling around on the filthy, germ-infested, doctor’s office floor. And I’m pretty sure I’m already showing signs of having swine flu. As awesome as breading, frying, and slapping a pound of cheese on a bunch of chicken cutlets sounds right about now, I think I’ll pass. Spaghetti will do just fine.
4:20 p.m. You know what? I really think I need a glass of wine first. I deserve it after that hellish afternoon. Bottle opener, where are you??
4:30 p.m. Mmm… That was a really good glass of wine. I should just have one glass. I’m probably just going to feel really tired if I have any more. But it was just so damn good. Ah, what the hell? One more glass, and then I’ll start to cook.
5:00 p.m. Ok just ONE MORE GLASS. I swear!
5:30 p.m. Wait. What was I planning to make for dinner again?
5:45 p.m. Hi, can I have a large pie with mushrooms, pepperoni and extra cheese?