Worst. Morning. Ever.

Okay, maybe not ever, but it pretty much sucked.

1.   It started last night when I sat down to write my dinner post and hit my knee on my desk so hard that it took me out.  And by took me out, I mean made me drop into the fetal position and stay there for a solid five minutes.  This morning when I woke up, it felt like someone had beat it with a sledge hammer.  Fantastic.

2.   This morning, I woke up to The Dad saying to The Girl, "What did you do?!  WHAT DID YOU DO!?"  Well, I'll tell you what she did.  She took the scissors to her hair.  Again.  She gave herself bangs several months ago and actually did a pretty amazing job for a three year old.  They were finally getting to the point where I could sweep them to the side with a barrette.  Not so much anymore.  There are giant chunks missing.  I'm on the verge of shaving her head.  The Kid said, "You know what it reminds me of Mom?  The other day when you were mowing the  lawn and ran out of gas.  That looked dumb."  Yes, that's EXACTLY what it looks like.  Fantastic.

3.   I wanted to attempt to get the morning back on track, so I decided to make blueberry pancakes.  While I was cooking the second batch, The Kid dumped an entire glass of juice all over the table and floor.  I got it all cleaned up, poured him another glass and he did it again.  Fantastic.

4.  For whatever reason, The Kids have fought non-stop since they crawled out of bed.  Fantastic.  If I hear "Moooommmmmm!!!!" one more time, I'm going to lock myself in a closet with earplugs and a blankie. 

5.   In the past, we've had rodent issues in our compost bin.  Recently, The Dog has been whining and digging at the base of our shed.  The Dad set traps out.  They're the kind that are completely enclosed.  This morning, I went out on the deck and noticed one of the traps had been moved.  I thought that was odd, so I started walking toward it.  Then I saw the tail sticking out.  Fantastic.  Looks like we won't be playing in the yard till The Dad gets home.  A bit later, The Kids were asking to go out back and play, so I thought maybe I could pick the whole thing up with a shovel and move it.  When I went out, the thing was outside of the trap.  Not dead.  Fantastic.  It turned around and revealed it's true identity.  Not a rat.  A baby possum.  Fantastic.  I frantically called The Dad.  He called our neighbor, AKA, The Contractor.  He came over to investigate.  He came back in the house and asked for a screwdriver.  Immediate thought:  Oh dear God he's going to stab it with a screwdriver to kill it.  Clearly I need therapy.  He needed it to open the plastic housing around the trap.  The poor little guy's front toes were stuck.  He got him loose and put him out under some plants.  He said his foot didn't look too bad, but that he was in a bad state of shock.  He had a rough night.  I'm sure his first thought when the trap snapped was, "Fantastic".

It is now nap time.  The morning is over.  This mom could really use a cocktail.