Why?

Is it that on the day when:

• Rollie gets his hep vaccine
• I go through the five steps of grieving over the news that Rollie needs to give up the nap
• I begin weaning Matilda by cutting out a feeding

. . .some bitch realtor leaves a message on my machine at 3:45, after I have left for the gym, that she will be bringing a client by at between 7 and 7:30 pm that evening. I arrive home at six, the house is in an uproar, and I start to pull out items for our dinner before listening to the goddamned message. Upon hearing it, I quickly call Todd's cel, knowing he is on the treadmill at the gym, to tell him to hightail it to the grocery for cat litter, which of course we don't have on hand, not knowing that the bitch is bringing the people by tonight. I throw the shit back into fridge, make Rollie go outside, and put Matilda into the exersaucer (or as Rollie calls it, the "babysaucer.") Todd arrives home and we proceed to clean the house in about a third of the time it usually takes to do the same cleaning job on a weekend. We then pack up the kids (both crying at this point) and then take them out to eat at approximately 6:45 pm (roughly 45 minutes before their usual bedtime).

They were angels at dinner. Love me some babies. Those assholes so better by a house.