I am not the easiest person to live with.
For one, I’m becoming my mother at the wee age of 30. I realized this when I started to wash out the kitchen trash can last weekend. Really, who does that? My mom. Oh, and me.
Also like my mother, I ask, without fail, the second after Roo takes a bite of food how it is. (FYI “it’s good,” is not a proper response.)
Second, there were a few times where it was pointed out that I have a hard time throwing things away.
“Babe, we have so many empty glass jars. I feel like we’re one away from being cast on Hoarders.”
“What are you talking about? I use them, like all the time.”
“For what? Besides leaving them in a paper bag on the floor.”
“That’s where they live! I don’t have any cupboard space.”
“Because there’s no room in the cupboard from all your glass jars.”
Lastly, I may or may not have had two meltdowns so far this week. But in my defense, the first was from burning my hand….by grabbing a pan that had been in the oven. The second was after realizing there was shattered glass in every single cup we owned….because I dropped a bowl on top of those cups and it um, shattered.
So when Roo asks if there’s a way he can have cookies at ‘snack,’ (which to me is essentially second breakfast), I try to make it happen. After all, I need to keep someone around to identify my body when it’s found underneath a mountain of fallen glass jars.