So dear sweet daughter fell off the monkey bars at school today and landed on her wrist. Right before I was about to take a shower. So, stanky me plus half-way-through-nap-toddler plus three hours at the ER plus attempting to make a game out of tongue depressors plus a stop at DQ equaled our afternoon. She has what is called a greenstick fracture (whatever the hell that is), and is in a splint/sling combo until we see our doc tomorrow. So in the lobby, I'm lamenting MY situation.... "Fuck this! Who is going to pick up the crap I don't want to? Who is going to take out the trash? Who is going to get me the remote? I have to BATHE her preteen hormonal self? FUCK THIS!"
And then she walked in the door, picked up a few toys with her good hand, went to the bathroom by herself, asked for just sandwiches for dinner, and figured out how to play her DS with one hand.
I don't give this kid quite enough credit. Maybe I'll have her try to pottytrain her brother next. God knows I don't want to do that real bad.