The Neverending Day

Which is not as magical as The Neverending Story. No, it's pretty much filled with drool and poop and whining, and it begins at the decidedly unmagical hour of 5 AM. It's not even 11:30 yet, and already it's neverending. Neverending at less than halfway! This is going to be the most neverenderingest day I've ever had.

And of course, it's the day The Hubster is off gallivanting around Germany, visiting some silly old client and probably having catered lunch.

Speedybuns Zero loves me, which I know because he wants me to be with him every single second. If I stop translating long enough to collapse near him on the sofa, he beams at me and speeds back and forth, showing off his new one-hand technique and occasionally going for the no-hand-three-step. It's the beaming at me that has kept us both alive this neverending morning. 

My head will be in my spaghetti at dinnertime. I just hope the elder children will be gentle when they drag me to the sofa. And wipe off my face before it stains the leather.