|Guess where I am|
My wife and I just finished our Wal-Mart run for the week. It was not a pleasant shopping experience. My three-year-old son has gotten used to getting a new toy car every time he steps foot in a store. However, my son's taste in cars tends toward the five- and ten-dollar price range. Our budget this week, however, was more in the 89-cent Matchbox range. My son had a meltdown in the middle of the toy car aisle. Then he had a meltdown on the way to the parking lot. Then he had a meltdown as I was buckling in his car seat. Then he had another meltdown on the way to McDonald's. It was an afternoon of meltdowns, and I have a headache now.
I didn't get a chance to do any cleaning this afternoon, so, instead of relaxing when I get home, I will be scrubbing toilets, vacuuming, sweeping, and dusting. Cleaning house. I wish I could say "screw it" tonight, but I didn't clean last weekend due to our trip to Howell, Michigan. The house is a D-I-S-A-S-T-E-R, and I use the capital letters intentionally. I don't think I could relax in the living room unless I closed my eyes and thought of my happy place (Stockholm, in December, accepting the Nobel Prize for Literature--or taking a nap).
Saint Marty has a long night ahead of him, and he's doesn't have to use the few words of Swedish he knows.