We had parent teacher conferences yesterday. I left school starving and exhausted. I made a bad nutrition drive through choice on the way home, stumbled through the bedtime routine with Wunderkind and discovered that he had somehow ripped out the toe of his new cheap shoes. Daddy W. kindly headed to the store to buy some new cheap shoes. I kindly headed to bed at 8:20 to spare anyone my continued cranky presence.
8:25 PM: I pulled the covers over my head and pondered the beautiful mystery of a cold room and a warm quilt.
8:35 PM: Watch DVR’d New Girl. Continue to huddle under covers.
9:00 PM: Turn off lights. Attempt to sleep.
9:30 PM: Daddy W. comes home from store. Makes a shit ton of noise unloading whatever he had purchased.
9:45 PM: I can hear him in there messing with the stove.
10:00 PM: Smoke detector starts going off and won’t quit. He finally pulls the battery to shut the fucker up. I know that he is cooking the Daddy W special: frozen pizza cooked at 500 degrees until the smoke detector goes off or the fire department shows up
10:20 PM: Burning smell gets worse in the bedroom. I have to drag my stupid, tired, sorry ass out of bed to the kitchen to turn on the fan, open the window, save my kingdom from destruction, and ask “JUST WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON IN HERE? MY GOD! CAN YOU NOT JUST COOK ONE THING WITHOUT BURNING ALL TO FUCK? JESUS.” because seriously.
10:21 PM: Daddy W. smiles, sails past me to the bathroom, and then heads to bed. I stand there pissed. And smelling like charcoal. I open the window, hope the burglars can’t get in, and go to bed. Nothing is actually in flames. Hope for the best.
10:21 1/2 PM: I feel a hand on my hip, patting, to which I reply, “I have been trying to go to sleep for two hours. I KNOW that is just to apologize for stinking up my entire house and not for any other reason, RIGHT?”