I’ve had to pee since I brought the groceries in about an hour and a half ago. I unloaded the groceries and started making dinner simultaneously cleaning up dishes left over from last night and this morning as I created a whole new mess with pots and pans and cutting boards.
Dinner’s done. I set the plates in a stack on the counter ready to serve. The babe gets to his plate while I’m pulling tortillas from the microwave and knocks the other plates off the counter. I close my eyes and cringe, waiting for the sounds of glass shattering but just a load bang resonates through the kitchen. Thank the maker for Corelle, my old set of dishes wouldn’t have survived.
A quick diaper change before we eat and we are on to dinner. We eat and I manage to get half the dishes done before my toddler disappears. My husband, on the couch working on invoices, can’t be bothered to stop and chase after the little one. I sprint to the bathroom to help him get his pants off and as soon as he’s seated he tells me “Go way Mamma go away.” I remind him to hold his penis down if he has to pee and I wait in the other room for him to call me. I hear him get down and go in to check on him. Poop successfully in the toilet but he’s standing in a puddle of pee.
I run the bath water and put him in while I clean up the toilet and floor yet again. All thoughts that I’ve been a lousy wife lately fly out of my mind as I scrub piss off the floor yet again.
I finally get my chance to pee on the clean toilet only to find out someone’s used the last of the toilet paper and I’m going to have to shake dry and waddle over to the rolls in the closet before I can get my wipe on.
I’m trying not to be frustrated but the tension in my shoulders laughs at me and squeezes a little tighter.
Alright Monday, you win, I surrender. But keep in mind that was just a set.
I have the rest of the week to win the match and I will.