it’s nearly noon, and I’m still in my jammies, with dark, old mascara under my eyes, and my second cup of coffee, at my laptop, and not only am I completely ignoring the fruit of my exhausted loins, but their little voices are really really causing a small, sharp stabbing sensation in the back of my right eye, BUT they are teaching themselves Chess, can this still be considered a good day? Forget that. Now I hear increasingly shrill pleas of you can’t do that, you can’t do that, you can’t dooooooooo that…it’s not faaaaaaaiiiiiiiirrrr, from a 5 year old who wouldn’t know the rules of Chess from the origins of DaDaism. I’m sooo going to leave the house when my husband gets home from his trip.