I worked Monday night. Tuesday I discovered a huge bowl of homemade cookies on the counter. I mentioned to Larry that it looked like he had had a fun baking session while I was out the previous evening.
"Fun!" he snorted. "You wouldn't believe what happened! I had cookies in the oven, the phone rang, and Susie was in the bathroom yelling she had pooped in her pants! All at once!"
Hello? Where has this man been the past 17 years? I don't know about the rest of you moms out there, but what he described was my average day. My average good day, actually...
Larry did not appreciate my pointing this out. "The oven timer was going off, you know," he harrumphed.
Oh. Okay, then.