Have you ever wondered how an unfathomably full week, with school and/or church functions every night, would end? I now know ...
After attending a fantastic staff appreciation dinner and then picking up my kids from a friend's house, the girls and I headed home.
Upon pulling into the garage, Amanda opened her car door (and by car door, I mean an ultra-heavy 1980's Volvo steel trap) only to have it slam back shut on her fingers. This resulted in much crying and screaming. We went into the house to administer ice and TLC.
Upon witnessing the TLC bestowed upon her older (and now presumed favorite) sister, Megan yelled, "You care about HER more than you care about ME!!" And ran down the hallway to her room. I looked at the clock ... 10:30 p.m. ... someone's TIRED.
I finally got Amanda calmed down, only to realize that the girls had no clean jeans to wear to their choir's dress rehearsal the following morning. I grabbed some jeans out of Amanda's hamper, and then headed to Megan's room only to discover her door locked. Seriously? I knocked on the door ~ no response. I called her name ~ nothing. I looked at the clock ... 11:00 p.m. ... someone fell asleep and is now locked in her bedroom along with her dirty jeans that must be washed TONIGHT. Whose idea was motherhood anyway?
I tucked Amanda into bed, and then tried for 10 minutes to get Megan's door unlocked. I had just come to the decision that her punishment for this would be having to go to the rehearsal in stinky, dirty jeans, when I heard that glorious "click". I opened the door and there she lay, sound asleep in her clothes ~ all lights blazing. I tucked her in, turned out the lights, and put her jeans in the wash.
I looked at the clock ... 11:30 p.m. ... someone's tired.
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