So apparently I’ve lost it

You ever had one of those times where you just look at yourself, what you’ve just done, and burst out into hysterics?  Well today was my day.

I had, what felt like, a week of stress and tension that grew exponentially by the day.  I kept looking around for the license plate of the truck that hit me, but it was never to be found.

Then the weekend arrived.  The glorious weekend.  Those two days that you get to sleep in, relax and rejuvenate yourself.  Wait…what, that doesn’t happen in your life?!?!  Me neither.

My weekends are spent running to and from kids sporting activities, games, practices, and then squeezing in parties, errands, and cleaning.  All the while, passing my empty couch, staring longingly at its cushy, plushness.

After getting through my morning cleaning, getting the boy to baseball, attending a fun baby shower with friends, and running my daughter to the mall for a “must-have, can’t-live-without” One Direction T-Shirt (maybe now I’ll get my NKOTB jacket back), I was starting to feel a little giddy.  I was on my way home!  I was going to get to put on my sweats and lounge on my couch to watch my Huskers!

I pulled up to a red light, my leg bouncing with excitement.  Change light, change!  I started to do the creep forward trick to trip the sensor.  Opps!  I realized I had crept up too far, so I crept back in reverse.  Seriously, how long is this light?  Then the light changed.  I stepped on the gas and my truck went….no where.

What the hell?!?!   I can not be having car trouble, no, no, no!  I’m almost home.  I can feel my couch!  This can not be happening.

Then I looked down and saw this.

Apparently you can not drive a vehicle while it is in park.

D = Drive.  Got it.



If they made it, I would buy it!

As I’m doing a quick pick up and turning off the lights in the Rec Room, my eyes scan across the couch and spot a pile of puke. 

Awesomesauce!  This is exactly how I want to start a Monday.  I hope it’s not an omen for the week to come. 

I grab and cleaner, a towel and begin the removal process. 

My husband walks in the room and asks,

“What happened?”

“Someone puked on the couch, so I’m cleaning it up.”

“Well it wasn’t me!”

“I hope not, because I used pet cleaner instead of husband cleaner.”

I have yet to find this in any box store or mom ‘n pop shop, but if you see any, let me know!