"Hon, have you seen my keys?" "Yes, they're on Drew's dresser."
"Mama, where are my shoes?" "One is underneath the couch and one is upstairs in the laundry room." "Where's my finger?" "It's in your nose, son."
I'm constantly memorizing where everything is because I never know when I'll need to help somebody find it. Of course, the downside is that my brain looks like this:
In a related story, Fridays are "wear your favorite sports team to school" days for Drew, so I decked him out in Chicago Bears wear.
He looked so freaking cute, it made Brian Urlacher cry.
Drew was really tired on Friday, and apparently, he really had to pee. The combination of the two led to a golden shower the size of Niagara Falls on Drew's nap mat while he was sleeping.
NO PROBLEM. That's why I send extra clothes (and socks, and shoes, and wet wipes, and Lysol) to Drew's school with him each day.
They changed his clothes and cleaned him up, and then they put his pee-soaked clothes in a grocery bag in his backpack.
After I picked up Drew from school, I picked up Bailey and her friend Sara from their school. We went to Publix for the girls to interview the Customer Service Manager for their science project on bottled water sales trends.
I took Sara home and had a good long chat with her sweet mother. Then I ran by Pizza Hut to pick up dinner because I promised my family a warm meal; I just didn't promise them that I would cook it.
Hey, in all that seemingly unnecessary detail, were you all like, 'Listen, if I wanted to know what you eat and where you shop, I'd just friend you on Facebook. And then I'd block your boring ass.'
Yeah, sorry about that. It will seem more necessary in a minute. Please don't block me yet.
We got home and ate pizza and then I remembered that Drew's pee clothes were in the car! BARF. I need to, like, triple wash them on the ASAP.
But I couldn't find Drew's backpack anywhere!
Ugh, where is that stupid thing?
Maybe I already took it up to the laundry room? No. Okay, in Drew's room? Nope, not there, either.
It didn't turn up all weekend. I asked Drew's school if I left it there somehow, but it wasn't there, either.
My perfect score in the Werdyab Memory Game was flushed down the toilet faster than you can spell P-E-E.
The good news is that Drew's backpack turned up today. The bad news is WHERE Drew's backpack turned up today. Which was Sara's house. Ahem.
Do you think her Mom was pissed? (See what I did there?)
And you people are still bringing bottles of wine or fresh flowers when you meet somebody for the first time?! Pfft. Overrated!
Because really, what says "nice to meet you" other than "urine-scented clothes"? Well, I can't think of a thing.
Can you imagine the stench coming off that Bears jersey right about now after it's been fermenting for the past 5 days?
After I pick it up tonight, I'll be able to tell you exactly bad it is. On a scale of 1 to making-me-involuntarily-gag-in-public, I'm guessing an 11.
Let's just hope she's a Packers fan.
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