I watched The Simpsons last night. It was a “Treehouse of Horrors“ episode that parodied “The Shining.” I love The Simpsons, love love love them. I’ve watched that show from episode one. My Dad, older brother and I could quote the series faster than an outlaw can draw his gun. I often compare my kids and family to Homer, Marge and the kids. Last night, and today sadly, I had a Homer moment.
He was playing the Jack Nicholson character and slowly losing his mind. At one point Marge walks in and sees the typewriter. “What he’s typed will be a window to his mind,” she says. All the paper reveals is “Feelin’ fine,” to which she lets out a sigh of relief. Then the lights flash and we see mad scribbling all over the walls saying “No beer or tv make Homer go crazy.” Today, I feel his pain.
I don’t need the beer or television even but I DO want a few seconds of quiet! I guess kids are out of school today and my friend asked if I would keep hers. I already watch her baby, Noah, for her on a regular basis. She pays me so extra money is always nice. Her older son is the same age is my little Deacon, and they have fun together so I thought sure, why not. Noah is a fat little snugglebug that smiles all the time so I don’t mind having him around at all. Her other son is a sweet kid but I’m just not as great with other peoples children, especially when they aren’t babies. I don’t think it’s my place to tell them what to do. I’ll make sure they are safe, fed and happy, but I’m not here to teach or discipline.
Let me just give you a little back story so, like Marge, you can see into my mind. My washer died on me last week. Thankfully it is still under warranty so the service is free, but when they told me they had to order parts and come back in a few days my heart sank. I have to wash at least 1-2 loads a day to keep up! I can’t have piles of dirty, stinking clothes everywhere! Well, the week is almost over and they have yet to come back and fix my washer.
I also think there is something nesting in the attic above my bedroom and now it smells like funk. We have to climb around in the attic and find whatever has moved in and hopefully shoo them out. In the meantime, my bedroom smells gross and I’ve been lighting every candle I own and spraying smelly stuff everywhere.
Today I have six – count em – six children running (except Noah, he can’t run yet) around the house. No washing machine, no car because my hubby’s is in the shop, so he has mine, a stinky bedroom inhabited by gosh knows what creature and a LONG day ahead of me. I think instead of television and beer, my mad rambling will be: “No washing machine, too many kids and no car makes Katie go crazy”. Catchy, no?