Thank God it's not Sunday... Come one, you know you just read that to the Bangles tune. If you didn't you are younger than me. If you are younger than me, your music sucked. :p KIDDING! I'm totally a child of the '90's. Born in 1982, I caught the tail end of the 1980's, for which I should be grateful. I do admit I look great in neon though.
I think after my blowup this weekend, sugar fixed it all. Oh? I didn't tell you about my blowup? It's a bit embarrassing. I had a "Can't mommy every come first?!?!" moment after the kids went to bed. Saturday night. It all went down hill from there. It started over food and ended over food. No sour cream, cold french fries, fly lands in my salsa I didn't get to touch, for some reason my pizza dough comes out more like cake batter, despite being a recipe I've used before...
My darling husband who put up with all of it, fed me a slice of Orange Dreamcicle cake he went out and bought for me and then let me snuggle in his lap. I woke up happy and excited to start my day this morning. So, this would be why I am so happy it's no longer Sunday!
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