We had a very bad morning. It’s too traumatic to talk about. See the picture in my last post? That pretty much describes it, only with more yelling (from both of us), and crying (from her, out of anger), and danger (she has upgraded from the coffee table to the dining table), and hitting (her hitting me, which resulted in more yelling), and pouty lips (hers, trying to charm me even though it was way too late for that). Throw in a half-drawn, crumpled up picture, one partially eaten soggy breakfast, and a gigantic headache (mine) and that’s the basic summary.
Days like this I’m glad to go to work. I will not be surprised if my mom charges me double for this week.