The Mister has this thing that he does all the time, and it's called WORK. This does lend an element of stress to things, but since I do not like to give stress any sort of power in my life, I like to think of it in a different way. Meaning this: I call that The Mister works all the time NORMAL, and I just deal.
I do admit, I throw the occasional temper tantrum about taking out the garbage, and sometimes I don't do the dishes because I need to get through the day and doing the dishes will push me over the precipice. Dishes give me the stress, for real, people. Clean ones in the dishwasher, dirty ones in the sink, it's all the same to me.
This is not about dishes.
This is about the thing that I do all the time, and it's called OVER-DO-ING, or, in smaller words, DOING TOO MUCH.
On the morning of the fourth day (possibly the fourth day, I honestly don't keep track) of being alone with the short people, I got the MOST! BRILLIANT! IDEA!!! EVER!!! to go to the Genesee Country Village & Museum. With the short people. And an additional short person.
The INSANITY. It killeth. Or maimeth. Or causeth the alcoholism.
I will spare you the icky details, like the incessant screaming, and the superty fast running (I do not.run.ever.), and the superty slow walking, and the humitidy, and how it didn't thunderstorm despite the 80% chance of thunderstorming that was going to cause the trip to last only 2 hours, when in reality we were there for like 6. Or six hundred. But I will say that the additional short person gave rave reviews of the trip to anybody who would listen to her, so points for me.
The second most brilliant thing I did that day was to take all the short people for an ice cream dinner. Which is a post all on its own.
The third most brilliant thing I did that day was to take all the short people to Target after running them ragged, feeding them ice cream for dinner, and stopping along the way to watch a parade.
It's a disorder. I can't even HELP IT.