I am very allergic to dogs and cats. I remember going to my best friend Rachael’s house when she was getting ready to go to Homecoming with Diego in high school and her mother had like 32 cats in the house. So, we ran into the house. I ran up the stairs and she locked me in her pre-cleaned bathroom so I could help her get ready. Within 15 minutes, I was sneezing every 30 seconds. It is pretty gross but I am certain that the reason her hair stayed in place that night was because my sneeze mucous particles were distributed all over her hair as I was working with the hot curling iron on it. We are still friends.
By the end of Sunday, my nerves are usually worn thin and I am longing for Monday morning when I can wake up at the crack, go to Spin, and then come home and take my children to SCHOOL. God bless school. Anyhow.
I went with my kids and husband to my in-laws house this afternoon wearing the only jeans that fit me anymore. They have two Pomeranians that have taken over the house and usually I preload with Zyrtec and prepare to sneeze for a few hours. The kids have fun with their cousins. We all visit. My MIL prepared some yummies for everyone to eat. Well, as always, I walked into the house and within 15 minutes or so I was all stuffed up, losing my voice, rubbing my eyes, sneezing, coughing, etc. It was way cute.
We got back home and the twins were experiencing a meltdown because (1) they wanted me to take off their boots, (2) their dad took off their boots, and (3) they wanted to take bath wearing their rain coats that they hadn’t taken off since 3:30 even though we were inside with the Pomeranian hair. That just does not work. And it’s Sunday. And they need to go bed so that I don’t call 9-1-1 screaming 5150 repeatedly just so I can get seventy two hours of peace and quiet with a straight jacket on.
Meanwhile, I am going to pee in my pants. I hold it and hold it and hold it …until every one is bathed sans rain coats and in bed. I run to the bathroom with snot running down my face and pee almost dripping out and I grab a Kleenex and try to rip off my jeans simultaneously and the Kleenex catches on the zipper of my only fat ugly pair of jeans and the zipper fails. Totally fails. With Kleenex stuck between each crevice of the zipper mechanism. No more jeans. Big fat ass. I am all stuff up.
And that was the makings of my Sunday evening breakdown. I cried. A lot. Things just aren’t going well.