Barefoot in Winter

I haven't had a day off since January 8th, not that I'm counting. I do finally have this coming Monday off and I sure hope it's a nice day out. During this harsh Working Gal Slump I slog through the freezing, grey winds of winter, to and from my car, to and from jobs.  

I long for the free time I had just a few weeks ago, when Budds and I walked barefoot through the yard, stepping on mole hills and letting the dirt squish between our toes before we finally settled quietly on our favorite sun-soaked, wooden boards. 

Enough with the theatrics.

We have finally finished all four seasons of Prison Break and we are all entirely exhausted. Mom and I are also quite disappointed as we both have the same memory of the main character being launched through the air upside down and yet we were never treated to such a scene during this viewing. Mom has decided that Netflix cuts things out of their shows, however I find this unlikely. But how do we both remember something that apparently wasn't in the show?

In family news, Ellen continues her bi-monthly occupational meltdown while Chris quietly watches from a distance. Mom continues to entertain me between jobs with sound effects and sporadic dance moves. Dad carries on with his various projects and last night he caused a marinara sauce explosion in the kitchen.

On account of a poorly placed Teacher Work Day, I had to watch Finn for 7 hours today. Normally, this would be highly offensive. Today, it was torture as my irresponsible friends kept me out late listening to music at the Surf Bar. "I'll be fine if I leave by midnight." I told them, bobbing my head to the tunes. Cut to 1:45 am and find me up shimmying with the band. 

I really tried to leave but the tunes!! They were so great! I came home bustling with energy and could not fall asleep. I finally passed out around 4:00, giving me three hours of sleep before arriving on Finn's doorstep.

Unfortunately, I'm beyond pleased to inform you that I shot him in the eye with a Nerf gun, stabbed him with a small tree branch, and ran over his foot with the scooter. While these were all accidents and he never cried once (I told you I'd toughen him up), I was hideously entertained by my own offensive behavior and heartless responses, which consisted mostly of a man's reaction to seeing another hit where the sun don't shine. "OOOOHHHhhhh" with a fist to my mouth and hiccupy chuckles slipping out at the end. "Y'alright kid?" I'd ask him and after staring at me like a bulldog for a moment, we'd carry on.

For the record, I'm not usually such a sloppy babysitter. Lacking sleep means lacking attentiveness.