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Furious The Monkey Boy

This week is off to a sketchy start. For one thing, I’ve been avidly avoiding my to do list. Coming up with odd chores to complete in lieu of more pressing matters. Like sweeping cobwebs out of unused corners in the basement rather than scheduling an appointment for my annual exam. Or cleaning out my bedroom closet instead of my car…the latter needs to be sold soon, the former isn’t going anywhere. And crankiness is in the air. The sniping and griping of the construction workers next door (a new house is being built on the formerly vacant lot) has been wafting into our windows…causing the little man to scold and shout at these strangers on a regular basis. He hasn’t been a bundle of joy himself. We’ve been visiting a number of playgrounds (three in the last two days) and at each he still requests to be seated in the baby swing. This boy’s size has always been off the charts. While an average-sized three to four year old might fit just fine in one of these swings, mine becomes stuck such that he is wearing the swing more than sitting in it. So I’ve taken to denying this demand of his, which has been met with a very low approval rating. I’m hoping he will soon accept his fate and move on. The hellacious hissyfits being something we could all do without. But it hasn’t been all bad. Some good times have been had, honest. And there are blue skies ahead. Or something. Maybe mommy just needs a little lie down. And then I’ll tackle that to do list. Yeah, that’s the ticket.