Texts from the fourth snow day trapped in the house with two kids who have chest colds while one parent tries to work upstairs and one parent tries to work downstairs:
Me: What’s all the shouting downstairs?
The Hubster: Our youngest daughter hates our oldest daughter and says she is the worst sister ever and this is going to be a terrible day.
Me: OMG, it’s only 9:40 and they are fighting and we are trapped in the house. We may not survive.
The Hubster: I’ve just read them the riot act. I have a conference call and they have to be quiet. I’ve told them they can watch TV.
Me: A parent’s gotta do what a parent’s gotta do.
The Hubster: How many freakin’ times a day does that Jessie show air??? That music from Dog with a Blog makes me want to stab myself.
Me: Have they been watching television for three hours?
The Hubster: Uh, yes. What happened to “a parent’s gotta do what a parent’s gotta do”?
Me: We are terrible parents.
The Hubster: I’ve sent them outside.
Me: Good idea! I used to love playing in snowstorms!
The Hubster: And, they’re back.
Me: They were outside for less than 10 minutes.
The Hubster: Yup.
Me: The girls are in my office. They are bored. They are watching me as I type this.
The Hubster: I am going to take the dog out. In the blizzard. It’s minus 22.
Me: I had the C-sections.
The Hubster: Playing the 5 right off that bat, eh? How long are you going to use that card?
Me: That scar will last a lifetime, baby.
The Hubster: Sigh.
Me: What did the girls have for lunch?
The Hubster: Don’t know.
Me: OMG, they haven’t eaten since their oatmeal this morning.
The Hubster: I will tell them to make some toast.
Me: Where’s the protein? Where’s the veggies? I don’t have time to make them anything else. Why, why, why do kids need three meals hand two snacks EVERY SINGLE DAY?
The Hubster: I’ll tell them to eat some baby carrots with it. Adding baby carrots to any crappy meal eases parental guilt.
Me: Why aren’t you up here? Can’t you hear all the screaming?
The Hubster: WTH? I was in the basement with the hairdryer.
Me: Our oldest is barfing. We’re out of garbage bags, and Avery is crying with a headache.
The Hubster: The pipes in the bathroom are frozen. I was trying to fix it. I’ve got another conference call. See you in an hour! Sorry!
Me: An hour?? We’re all going to get the barfing flu now after two weeks of chest colds!! I can’t stand it! Why do we live in this godforsaken frozen winterland??
The Hubster: BTW, did you see the forecast? It’s supposed to snow again tomorrow.
Me: No! The only thing we’ve got in the liquor cabinet is that old blueberry liqueur!
Li’l Girl Talk
“Let’s get the car and head to Vegas!” says The Youngest, age, 8, tired of snow days.