Sink and Sleep (or the Lack Thereof!)

Good morning Everyone!

Sink

Sunday evening, as I was working on supper, Kayla walked by the kitchen and announced, “Mom, you don’t want to ask what I’m doing in the bathroom.” I, of course, gave the only logical response, which is, “What are you doing?” Answer: “Mom, you don’t want to know.” After two more rounds, I did the only thing a parent could do, which was to enter her bathroom to see what was happening.

Kayla’s sink was full of water, and she had one of her big bath towels in it soaking. I ~~started to have a conniption~~ took a deep breath and looked at her for an explanation, and she, grinning proudly, announced that she had decided that she was going to help me out by washing her own clothes. Her plan was to wash them in the sink every night, then hang them on her shower rod to let them dry.

I told her I appreciated the thought, but that it would work out better to use the washing machine to clean her clothes. Then I had to figure out how to transfer the completely saturated towel to the washing machine without getting water all over the floor. At least she was trying!

Sleep, or the Lack Thereof!

Sunday night, I only managed to get about two hours of sleep. I really don’t know why, but I just couldn’t get to sleep. Needless to say, on Monday, I wasn’t exactly full of sweetness and light but I did try to muddle through without being too terrible to be around. After supper though, I started to clean the kitchen, snapped at Kayla about something, snapped at Mark about something, and then dropped a TV tray on my foot. It fell sideways where its thin edge fell directly on the bone on the top of my foot and it hurt. I yelled something like, “Ouch!” or “Verily, verily, I hath dropped a tray on my foot and it hurteth” except on a grander scale, and Mark, coming into the kitchen to check on me, told me to leave the kitchen until tomorrow and sent me to bed, 10 minutes before Kayla’s bedtime. I didn’t argue, either.