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Browsing Tag: bad day

Just Take it From Me

Tip: if your daughter owns a doll–more specifically, a really expensive American Girl doll that Santa brought her for Christmas–don’t ever, ever, give your 13-month-old dog a chance to get into her room when you’re not around, lest your precious 5-year-old crawl into her bed one night, all comfy and happy and ready for a book, to discover that doll discarded on top of the covers, the legs mauled to stumps, pieces of feet scattered around the room like confetti. Don’t do that.  Tip: And whatever you do–WHATEVER YOU DO–if you lose your mind and let your sweet girl’s doll (you know, the one that was made to look exactly like her) get used as a chew toy by the deranged puppy–you terrible, terrible parent, you–please retain some semblance of common sense and not suggest that she accompany you to the UPS store to see you weigh the doll, measure it for a box, and then SHOVE IT INTO THE BOX to get carted into a scary-looking back room. And don’t think you…

But It Definitely Wasn’t So Good

It wasn’t the worst day ever–I would never say that, because on the spectrum of bad days, this one ranks pretty low–but it wasn’t exactly one that we’d like to repeat again anytime soon. I mean. Ever. David was due back in from Connecticut late Thursday night. I worried about him driving–the temperatures were hovering in the single digits, and there was a continuous, fierce wind blowing that was making those temperatures feel like something more in the negative 20s. It was cold in our house–I had the thermostat set at 74, the gas fireplace roaring, and yet we shivered. I checked the thermostat–still 74, it read, though it certainly didn’t feel like t-shirt weather within the four walls of our new-to-us home. I told the kids we were going to skip their baths and showers that night–the bathroom was too cold, and I figured I’d have time in the morning to do it since their school was already on a delay. I tucked the kids into bed. I shivered. I could hear the gas…