The house has been thoroughly cleaned, all the laundry is washed, folded, and away. It is the morning of departure. A weekend away at long last.
Kids clothes - check
tents - check
kitchen supplies - check
bath and pool needs etc - check
my clothes - uhhh, where are my clothes?
Ahh, crap. I didn't pack yet. Soon, this leads to exasperated head shake from husband and children who are running around like they are bovine suffering from mad cow disease. Ok, quickly throw the pile I planned into a bag, and hand it off to the van-packing patrol. We. Are. Good. To. Go.
Uhhh, just one more minute, hon. Ignore head shake number two from Hubby. Quickly run over to the sink to hand wash the few dishes created while I was busy tossing my wardrobe into a duffel. Double crap, there is food waste in the can - have to tie that up and bring it out. Double check the note to neighbor about dogs' and other assorted animals' needs while we are gone. OK. Done.
Actually sitting in the car...Double crap. Hop out and just make sure
at this point Hubby gives his most exassperated head shake of the morning the doors are closed, everything off, AC is turned way up. In the house once again, notice a used cup on the table and a plate on the desk, quick wash. Ok, we're gone.
In the car, Hubby wants to know: why stress so much? A conversation we have had many, many times before. For some reason, men just don't seem to get it. Or maybe it's just me? Let me know what you think...
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