Today is my big brother's birthday.
He's 48 today.
From the moment I got to work this morning and my brain kicked into gear, I told myself "Call your brother when you get home tonight and wish him a happy birthday."
Then I get home, and The Child has a tooth ache. Our Kitten is in heat.
Hubby hasn't been feeling well.
My house smells like someone dumped a pile of dirty socks in the ventilation ducts.
It's one of those days when I am expected to be the ultimate care giver to all of my loved ones.
And it doesn't stop here. Tomorrow, Hubby goes back to the doctor, kitty gets fixed, and The Child goes to the dentist for the first time and I know it will not be a pleasant venture.
I really kind of suck at one-on-one care giving. I'm great at giving hugs and cheerful words, but when it comes to actually caring for someone who is ill, well, I sort of freak out a little. And at the moment, every one in my family is broken and will be depending on me to help them mend.
So the practical voice inside me says "Buck up, little cowgirl, these people need you and you will rise to the occasion." Meanwhile the IMPRACTICAL voice inside of me says "A Gallon of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream and a bottle of jim beam would surely make me a loving and caring person."
We'll get through it. We always do. I know I've stood in this spot before.
Any way, Happy Birthday, Big Brudder!
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