Knitting up a raveled sleave* . . .

Pooped Kitty

This five-day emotional roller coaster of a week  is finally at an end.

I dragged my carcass home from work, poured the kids two glasses of iced tea for dinner, poured milk in my glass—and added two packets of sweetener.

I’m done and done in.

The kids are going to tuck me in, after I brush my teeth.**

More tomorrow, if I live through the experience.

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*Yeah, sleave.  Means skein, like yarn.  Shakespeare I remember.  My own name . . . not so much.

**The curly one . . .  uh . . . . Sunny . . .  just said I can use her grape-flavored toothpaste—I actually opened my eyes in alarm.