I really thought picking up the living room would be a 10 minute breeze. Somehow it's turned into a never ending ordeal including a 7 year old's meltdown, and the entire contents of my purse on the floor.
So it's break time. Chris is taking cans over to my dad's, and I'm sitting here boring you.
Well, I guess he's staying at Grama's, and I get to clean the living room. It's ok. I saw it coming a mile away. Even with my sore, puffy, watery eyes.
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