Well, we survived the sleepover. Yeah, his cute little lisp was annoying the hell out of me by 9:30 this morning. Last night he kept insisting that he doesn't go to bed until 5:00. In the morning. Okay. My kids got up at their usual 7:00 a.m. and crawled into bed with me, which I loved. We are kind of a weird family. Not because of the 7:00 a.m. snuggle thing, just because we are. Here's the thing I really like about kids coming over. When they leave I have a greater appreciation for how my kids are. I know they have weird quirks that probably drive other adults crazy. But they are mine and we are happy and content together. What more could I ask for.
So when his mom came to pick him up she came inside and I said, "Welcome to our mess." Even though it wasn't really that messy. For us. In fact, it was fairly picked up and decluttered. For us.
Now when someone says something like "Welcome to our mess" or "Sorry for the mess" or whatever I say, "Oh, it's not that bad" or "You should see my house" etc. etc.
This mom said, "Oh, is it time to clean?"
I was kind of speechless. Then I said, "It's always time to clean at my house." And she said, "Well, you have two cleaners here. Is that on the agenda for Christmas break?"
I said, "No."
What I wanted to say was, "No bitch. It's not on the freaking agenda. What's on the freaking (I wasn't really thinking the word freaking. It was another word) agenda is to sit around in our jammies, play video games, eat tons of junk food, and CHILL. And then roll around in the muck and filth that apparently is my home and by the way when I picked up your freakishly small lispy yet loud child yesterday I was not impressed by your poorly painted weird rusty orange walls on 16 foot ceilings in the living room and then the shockingly bright lime green dining room that didn't match at all."
That's what I wanted to say. But I didn't. I said, "Have a nice Christmas. See you in the New Year."