Every Monday I give the house a good scrub because we're horrendous slobs over the weekend. Every weekend, without fail.
So this is me, procrastinating. So far all I've done is almost catch up on laundry. It's really pretty satisfying, folding and sorting and putting it all away, but still I procrastinate. I'm down to the socks now. Socks. I don't even match them. I find two with a similar shape and fold them together. Right now I'm wearing a pink Hilfiger sock on my left foot and a grey nameless brand on the other. Screw it, life's too short to match socks.
Olivia's home sick and oh my God she's a whiny child. It must be karma. She doesn't even have a fever anymore, but she's like, "moooom can you move the coffee table closer so I don't have to sit up to get my water? Mooooom can I have a new straw, this one is an hour old. Moooooom I'm tired of Cartoon Network, here's the remote, change the station please."
Screw that. My head almost popped when she asked that last one, SHE HAS THE REMOTE RIGHT THERE.
She also thinks I should make her cookies. What? No.
Okay, I exaggerate. Really, she's being very sweet and quiet, other than those requests. She's snuggled up under a jacket -- because a blanket was too much, she said -- in panties and cuddling with the boxerdog (who is an asshole and a wonderful dog at the same time today). And since I refused to change the station, she's still watching Johnny Bravo on CN, and every now and then she sighs wistfully and mentions her concerns about what she might be missing on Nickelodeon.
What else can I do now to put off the laundry?
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