Road Rage

I have been slacking the past few days and haven’t written much.  I have an upper respiratory infection.  If my husband was suffering with this runny nose, sore throat and cough I would have to deal with his insufferable whining.  He would have moped around in the “feel sorry for me” robe.   I bought him a robe to wear from the bathroom to the bedroom.  It is meant to be a cover up so my children aren’t scarred for life.  It became an article of clothing. 

I want to crawl into bed until tomorrow.  I don’t have that luxury because I am a mother.  So, in between hosting house guests for Thanksgiving, caring for three children and a dog,  I am exhausted.  I had enough energy to scroll through Facebook to see how my friends spent the holiday.  Instead of seeing pictures of  Instagram(ed) turkey I found this video.   It reminded me of the day I went bananas on another driver.  I was driving with my son in the car when a b**** in a Mercedes cut me off.  I don’t know what got into me, but I followed her for several miles until I realized I was being a psycho.  This ends much better:

 

 

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