There was not enough coffee in the world to prepare me for this morning. I get out of bed, sit down at the comp, and hubby gets a phone call... from his dad who lives in Washington D.C. He's calling to let us know that he and his wife are on the way to our house and get this--they are only about a two hour drive away. *_*
Now let me get this straight. It's Sunday morning, my house is a wreck, there are dishes in the sink, dirty laundry in the bin, the baby hasn't been fed yet, the teen son is still piled up in bed, my hair is dirty, and they are ON THEIR WAY NOW?!?!
It is too early in the freaking morning for this, I can assure you that.
I ran around the house, cleaned, wrangled the kids, had hubby haul off the trash--which should be his job anyway, but he's as much a slackass as I am. Then I stuck my head under the cold tap in the bathroom and shampooed my hair. Voila! It appears we are not quite so slovenly after all. :P
Maybe this afternoon I'll have time to do the writing I intended to do. Why does this shit always happen on the weekend?