He Needs to Work on His Delivery

During Thanksgiving break, I was able to take off all but one day of work that week. My husband made up the difference by taking that particular day off, so he could stay home with the heathens. They actually prefer when daddy stays home, because he spoils them absolutely rotten…they play, they snack, they adventure from dawn till dusk. Meanwhile, on my days off, I clean, cook and secure my title as “Meanest Mom Ever” by forcing the clowns to help.

On this particular day off, my husband must have seriously misplaced his super-dad hat…either that, or he was intentionally trying to give me a heart-attack just for kicks. I swear, not two hours after I left for work, I get this picture and text: “had wipe out, lost part of knee, leg, ankle and foot”

Needless to say, my screech was heard throughout my office, and I’ve never dialed a phone so fast in my life. My youngest had apparently fallen while riding his scooter. No big deal, I know. And had my husband called and explained things BEFORE sending a cryptic text and disturbing picture, I may have kept my cool a little better.

Well, thank goodness for all those clowns, I had a full day to cool off from that lovely scare. My youngest also had all day to practice playing dead:

I’m living in a freak-show. Send relief soon…

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