I haven’t been alone since January.
People enter the bathroom when I am showering. People talk to me the whole time I pee.
I am with someone all the time. All. The. Time.
Gah, I love these people, but I cannot have the same conversation again.
I can’t read a book or everyone has a catastrophic breakdown, moral and otherwise. The grocery store is just another kind of contact. Strangers, who must talk with you.
Panera has a higher population density than China. Except in China, I don’t know 40% of everyone who comes through the door. And it’s SO loud. Panera. And China.
We go to extracurricular activities and community events.
Not enough anything else.
They act up.
We ground ‘em.
So…they can’t go anywhere.
No. I gotta be real. We don’t really ground them, anymore. Per se.
BECAUSE WE NEED A LITTLE SPACE. AND THAT IS PUNISHING ME.
Did I mention, they never go to bed? I mean, they do, but it’s so
freaking late. I haven’t got what it takes to stay up and prowl around after they’ve gone to bed (I’m too old. If I had my way, I would eat dinner at 4:3o and be in bed by 8:00.). That’s an inconvenience in all the ways you grown people just figured out. So, yeah.I..’m not just tired of being with people, but I’m not complaining.
They won’t practice driving so they can get their facacta licenses.
So I have to take them everywhere.
I love them. They’re better than your kids. A lot better (Don’ t even start, you’re supposed to think that about your kids, too.).
They can memorize anything the first time through. All three of them.
They love food. All of it. No picky eaters.
They are nice people. Every one of them.
The dogs. They’re nice, too.
The kids are fun. They get it from me.
They’re good kids. Except for right now. Right now, they’re up to their collective arse.
And I have to be the enforcer.
Tonight, was the Spring Concert for choir. I love choir.
Like an egg.