Some days are just like that.
Jeffrey and I got into a little fight. The good news we were expecting did not come. I hate when we do that. It always overshadows the rest of the day.
Sometimes things just go that way.
I made dinner at three o'clock. We ate at five. I was disappointed that there were still two hours until bed time.
Some days are just too long.
I made a blueberry pie for Jeffrey to make up with him.
It turned into soup.
The bottom crust didn't bake and was all gooey.
It spilled out of the pan and all over the oven.
Sometimes pie just doesn't set.
I am tired. Not so much in body, but more so in spirit.
There is still half an hour before Faye's bedtime, and an hour before Keith's.
Some days shouldn't happen.
Rolls are baking in the oven. Rolls that wouldn't rise, and have a slightly off taste. I blame the yeast.
It seems everything I have done to make up with Jeffrey ended in a big flop. Of course, he tells me it is the thought that counts, and he is thrilled with both the blueberry pie, and the rolls, but since most things I make turn out, I am more than slightly annoyed these didn't.
On a lighter note, last night when I went down to check on the kids before I went to bed, I found this:
In case you can't tell, Keith is wearing red fishnet stockings over his shorts. He pulled them out of Faye's drawer. Silly boy.
Some days, a goofy boy is just what you need.