Sometimes, it's JUST NOT FUN

Here's a brief synopsis of (part of) today:

A loving, caring person called me this morning to ask if I needed any help today, knowing that I was gearing up for company and the Munchkin's birthday party this weekend. I kindly said no, that I just needed to shop for groceries and clean, and even though we were scheduled to show the house at 4:15, I was confident I could squeeze it all in. Ahem.

The Munch and I went off to the store (and--stupidly--two other places, first), and during what felt like the longest shopping trip of at least the last four years, he was in full-blown meltdown mode the. entire. time. We returned home with an hour and 15 minutes before our scheduled showing , and I popped him in his crib where he proceeded to protest his third afternoon nap this week. But I left him there to squirm and fuss while I dashed to the car to retrieve the groceries. Upon flinging open the trunk door, a giant GLASS jar of salsa rolled right out and broke all over the garage floor. SwearingSweating and, um, crying a little, I cleaned up the glass and salsa, leaving a lovely smell of tomatoes to scent the garage that currently stinks like old garbage because the Garbage Guys forgot to empty our can last week....but that's another story. Finally back to the groceries, I brought them to the toy-strewn main floor, also decorated with cleaning supplies, and was three bags away from finished when I heard a key in the lock. CRAP.

The realtor (not ours) was ONE ENTIRE HOUR EARLY for the showing and couldn't have been bothered to call or at least RING THE BELL, FOR THE LUVUHGUH. I raced downstairs to beat her to the punch (thank you, dead bolt) and she said, "Oh, sorry! We're a little early." I muttered something about being "quite a bit early, actually," and, while the dog was trying to escape, told her I needed five minutes. Sigh. Frantically, I scurried back upstairs, shoved all the groceries in the fridge, threw the toys in the box, made a bottle, leashed the dog, dumped the cleaning stuff in the closet, collected the kid/pacifier/pooh bear blanket, and scrambled to the Salsa Garage to get the stroller out of the trunk. Thank goodness for the one-handed, super-quick release opening feature of the stroller! I picked it up, tossed it open, and BANG. Front wheel fell off. Etc., etc., we finally got out the door. But, man, when it rains, it hails.

The worst part? I have to go back to the store for more sala. Ole!