Today’s To-Do list in no particular order:
- Put down the angel food cake that I am eating by the fistful directly from the plastic tube pan it came in. Did you know there are legitimately ONLY FOUR servings in a full size angel food cake according to the nutrition label on the side of the package. Is that a misprint? Who cares? I’m all in for a 25% slab.
- Wash hands. They are very sticky now.
- Decide whether or not to order Fifty Shades of Grey on Amazon. Recommended by a blushing friend who implied it was tres risqué. Do I want that to appear on my account history indefinitely? Should I just wait for it to come out in paperback next month and skulk off to Barnes and Noble for a copy like the other chicken hearts?
- Brush the cat. Or strap him down and vacuum him with the Shark handheld pet vacuum. That’s what it’s for, no?
- Enforce “No Wii for a week” penalty decreed against Red Bull who was still clutching a remote, in his pajamas, parents screaming in unison, as Sunday School commenced three miles away without him.
- Weed out winter clothes from this year that nobody will ever wear again. Weed out summer clothes from last year that nobody will ever wear again. Package all discards and ready them for donation drop off. Decide where the hell to put both winter and summer “keeper” wardrobes for all, as it was both winter and summer simultaneously last week. Tomorrow is a toss up. We’ll have turtlenecks and flip flops on deck and take it as it comes.
- Think about removing chicken breasts for chicken chili from freezer now, so they will defrost, but don’t actually do it until I remember again at 4:00 and it’s way too late. Order takeout.
- Finish filling out camp enrollment forms. Reduce checkbook to a worn out nub of nothingness in the wake of endless deposits, payments, frivolity and bribes.
- Send 14 inch thick sheaf of medical forms to pediatrician to notarize and confirm that the children do not have any (severe) pre-existing forms of mental, physical, emotional, nutritional, literal, imagined, or contagious illness or incapacity so that they may joyously attend 11 different camps each for no more than one week at a stretch. There is an online service to deliver my customized grocery list with recommendations, favorites and specials ingeniously and magically integrated. (Not that I use said service. That would be too easy and convenient.) Shouldn’t there be an online service to fill out my kids’ emergency information and medical forms? Over. And over. And over again.
- Drive to the jeweler four towns over to get my snappy new watch sized to fit. Mr. Snark generously gifted a sparkly new timepiece in honor of our 15th anniversary. And likely in honor of the fact that I have jauntily sported a children’s plastic Timex digital watch for the past 6 years to any and all occasions. Including formal events and fancy anniversaries.
- Purchase deeply thoughtful and moving belated anniversary gift for Mr. Snark.
- Recycle plastic tube pan, former home of angel food cake. All gone.