Yesterday I was having the crap-hole of crap-hole days. It may or may not have had something to do with the fact that my you-know-what finally started again and I am feeling like a hormonal Attila the Hun, or that I need to have parental control settings on our internet so I don't sit around Googling horror stories about brain abnormalities all day. Or that I haven't slept more than 5 hours at a time in over 2 months. Or that I spend 99% of my day entertaining a 2 month old.
Whatever it was, I was a royal disaster yesterday. As my friend Betsy says, it was a total emotional-wedgie day. When J came home from work, I was somewhere in between irrationally angry and thoroughly depressed.
"What's the matter? Are you thinking about that stupid poem?"
"Yeah. Wait, no. I guess. Maybe. I don't know."
"Well, don't. You know why? Italy was out of the Cup in the first round. The first round. And you know who's going to the finals?"
"No. I need ice cream."
"The Dutch! The Dutch are going to the finals. Who the heck cares about Italy? They can't even get their population to increase, I mean, how hard is that to do? The Dutch are DOMINATING."
And that, ladies & gentlemen, is why I love my husband.