Every summer there is a turning point. There is a day, and suddenly, I look up from my gazillionth load of summer laundry and I’ve just had it.
I’ve had it with laundry and figuring out where the next meal is coming from out of the jumble of food in the pantry. I’ve had it with scrubbing the toilets. I’ve had it with picking wrappers up from the floor.
I’ve had it with searching for batteries that work and flashlights and towels and socks. I’ve had it with making beds and unmaking beds. I’ve had it with trying to be polite and remembering my gracious hostess (oops typed hostile) manners.
I’ve had it with trying to make brilliant conversation with strangers and smiling blankly at passers by, when I just want to lock myself in my room.
And the kids…
The kids start saying how much they miss their pets and their favorite pizza place. They are kind of done.
It’s like being on a crazy road trip, and sometimes it’s time to turn that car around and head home.