Smashed

This month we are on a roll. Destructoboy (aka Little Guy) has broken two juice glasses, one remote, a few cheapie toys, one not so cheapie DVD player, and now, a plate.

I set Little Guy up in his highchair with the beginnings of his lunch and snuck around the corner into the hall bathroom so I could (dare I say it?) poop in peace. Somehow, he stretched just far enough to get his fingers on the small plate sitting on the table and smash, it went to the floor. I hurried up and finished my business (didn't I?) and ran into the kitchen to sweep up the mess.

Afterwards I tossed him in bed for nap and pondered whether it was too early to sip a beer by the pool. Knowing that it probably was, I still have carpool, and swimming lessons, dinner to cook, writing to edit, phone calls to return, and laundry to fold, I poured myself a lemonade instead and decided to work on my to do list.

Not exactly making lemonade from lemons, but it will have to do for today.