Karen Rivers

some days are pants.

Karen Rivers

I love the word "pants".   In the British sense, not in the North American sense where pants are something you wear.    Boring!   In Britain, or so I believe to be true, pants means so, so so much more.   

As in, today?  Is pants.   So that when people say, "How's your day going?"

You can say, "My day is pants." 

So far -- and it's only just after noon -- I've:

1.  Yelled at the kids, breaking my vow-of-being-so-relentlessly-patient-that-I-get-sainted-and-people-name-schools-after-me.  (PATIENCE FAIL)

2.  Dropped both kids off crying at school.   Not because I was shouting (the crying) but for various and sundry kid-reasons extending to, "I wish my school was BLUE and not YELLOW!", etc.  (MOOD FAIL)

3.  Burnt my finger on the pan where I fried (in butter!) up some VELVEETA sandwiches for lunch.   Yes, indeedy.   Velveeta.    (NUTRITION FAIL)  

4.  Called Pest Control to rid my attic of vermin (rats?  raccoons?  passers-by?) that keep my kid awake at night very, very late.  (VERMIN FAIL)  (Actually, I just like saying 'vermin'.)  (Vermin are pants!)  (<- sentence WIN!)

5.  Fought against my urge to buy the following outfit from JCrew's weekend outlet. (You can only shop on the weekend!  It's somehow exclusive and special!)  (POSSIBLE SHOPPING FAIL)

 

And this concludes my day, so far.   We're going to the library soon.   Last time we were there, my children left a lot of pee in an area outside of the area where pee normally belongs.   (See also:  PANTS.)  

So how's your day going?