Hubster and Madame Home Depot have been insanely busy these last few days, knocking down an old stone building in the garden. Between the hurling of boulders and the swinging of sledge hammers, the two of them earn high marks for putting in good days' work.
As for me, my days' work consists of growing Whoopsie and fighting with those other people I previously evicted from my body. Throw in several nights of insomnia and children's nightmares, and I am just a joy to be around. Come dinner time, we are all dreaming of getting to bed early and hoping that Typhon forgets his duty as the 7 am wake up call.
I've never seen grown adults be so happy to scarf down chicken nuggets and fried potatoes like we did yesterday evening. Comfort food at it's best. Fast forward through the nightly ritual of yelling at Mini-Husband to get his pajamas on, The Princess to brush her hair, and Bubba-Love to use the potty, the three of us somehow managed to haul ourselves, packed to the gills with ketchup, upstairs to bed.
Hubster and Madame Home Depot were busy clearing up the debris once again today, only to have our bi-annual wood delivery turn up this afternoon. Tonight, I think I might have to finally admit it and give up the title I've fought so hard for lately. I may be tired, but they are exhausted.
At least I know that I've got a least 4 days of hospital rest coming to me in a couple weeks time. Believe me when I say that I'd happily take labour and delivery over throwing stones anyday.