Arrive home from trip. There’s a car to unload. A cooler to unpack, smelly laundry that needs attention, and everyone is hungry. You can’t bear to feed them pizza one more night… so you cook. The house gets messier by the second as hands lift bags across counters, across the floor — shifting garments to the basement for laundry, upstairs for wearing… the air conditioner has been off for days. The house is sweltering. There’s a yell from the bathroom, yelling “Somebody needs to turn on the water.” All you want is a cup of tea, and the time to sit down and drink it.


The hours pass… you have far less done than you want to by now, but at least the little ones are in bed. They’ve been there for a couple of hours. At least they’re getting a good nights sleep…and that thought is the only peaceful one you have all night.

Then, one of the older boys reminds you that he needs a disposable camera for school tomorrow… and those biodegradable balloons. You run to the store, to get items, plus, radishes.

Then, you hear a scream, as the older boys turn on the light in the little boy’s room, waking them up — “they’ve been messing with my headphones, and now they’re all stretched out.”

And at that moment, you realize that tomorrow is going to be just as chaotic as the one before.

Happy Memorial Day, everyone.


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