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Tuesday, August 10, 2004

Could life get any better? Well, of course it could. I have PMS; my house is slightly torn up while my husband replaces our knob and tube wiring; I have a raging headache; my 21-month-old daughter keeps waking up in the middle of the night and crying for at least an hour.

BUT my son's best friend (a six-year-old from Hell) has been gone since Saturday afternoon, staying with his father at a rented cottage. No knock on my door every morning at eight as he lies that his mother gave him permission to eat breakfast at our house. No knock on the door again at nine as he feigns an apology for fighting with my son. No afternoon visits disturbing my daughter's nap. Hell, the only person who's been at my door has been the mailman.

I'm lovin' it!

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