Thursday, June 30, 2011
I am starting to wonder if I will be sticky for the rest of my life. I never really paid much attention to how often I was sticky before having kids. Probably because I wasn't ever sticky. Or if I was sticky, I would wash my hands and be done with it for another year or so. But after having children I find that sticky has become a way of life. I am forever sticky...gummy...tacky...and not in that tacky "I'm wearing teal toe nail polish" kind of way. (I mention that because I just made this poor choice today. Not sure what I was thinking. I think I got caught up in my imaginary "Carrie Bradshaw" life again. Shari Bradshaw, if you will. I have a closet full of clothes, shoes and handbags that were purchased when I was under this influence. Then I come back to reality and find my teal toes sticking to the floor.) FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!! Where does this crap come from?!! Raisins? Granola Bars? Cheerios? Juice? I wash these children. I swear that I do. Constantly washing. Wiping. Rinsing. Can't seem to keep up. And when I do get MYSELF cleaned up, it is inevitable that within 10 minutes I will touch something or step in something that I missed. It's like they do it to taunt me. Like little sticky gremlins who are trying to see how much more it will take before I end up hiding in the pantry in the fetal position. #Imightnevercomeout #notabadmomjuststucktothefloor . My favorite part is when Daddy gets home and in his most shocked voice says, "Why is the refrigerator sticky?!". I'm breathing...I'm breathing...and in scary whisper I say, "Be...cause...IIIIIIIIII AMMMMMMM STICKYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!".