aww crap.

It just hit me—I am the mom.  I am the one that gets to do the things no one else wants to do.  Remember all the shit your mom had to clean up?  Yeah, that’s me now. Dog shit, boogers, barf…you name it.  Remember that shit you would walk by and pretend you didn’t see? Yeah, that’s my husband. “What? I didn’t see it.”And I believe him—god bless that fucker, it’s like living with an idiot savant.  He can get through med school but he doesn’t know where the forks are and he certainly never knows when he spills his coffee…every morning…on the floor…drip frickin drop.  The coffee drips aren’t the problem today.  No, today I discovered something extra sucky. An entire bottle of creamer spilled down the back of my refrigerator and is now a sticky pool of pestilence underneath my vegetable drawer.  Just once I would like to be the person that didn’t see it—just keep walking.  But no.  I’m in the Mom National Guard and when the shit hits the fan, I get called to duty.
Gahh. This blows.