It's Five O'Clock somewhere, right?

Ah, Wine O’Clock … it’s 5 O’clock somewhere right.

Still, I do feel somewhat … guilty? at considering wine at 7.23 am

Chippie woke at 5 (the am, not the pm allowable wine O’clock time, damnit!), Grumpy brought him into bed. Standard, only it’s usually later, and he usually sleeps.

This morning, however, he felt that smacking me in the head, kicking me in the boob, climbing over my head and back again, headbutting me in the eye and several other hurty things … oooh, like pulling himself back up onto our bed via use of a firm grip on my vagina …

Again, standard, but it’s usually occuring after I have heard the dulcit tones of my coffee machine automatic grinder starting up (which scares the bejeezus out of you, but, ironically, extremely calming at the same time). And my vagina is usually excluded from these particular friviloties.

Some discussion, and several looooong minutes listening to Chippie scream, walk around the room and throw himself on the floor later, I get up to feed Chippie his breakfast, where he has several more tantrums, refuses to sit in his seat, then refuses to eat breakfast.

I burn the toast.

Which, I believe, is an acheivement in itself, given the toaster is set on the lowest setting (I don’t like my toast too toasty) and it had gone in partially frozen. Even I’m impressed by that one.

Breakfast consumed by all but Chippie, lunches made little to no drama, except I couldn’t find the cheese zingos I’d made for the lunchboxes, despite knowing there were a heap left and that I was fairly sure no-one had eaten them. But they weren’t there.

Wandered around house, equiring of all family members at to whereabouts of container of cheese zingos, attempting but failing to keep accusatory tone out of voice because they were there in the fridge and now they’re not and I was a bit pissed off coz I didn’t want to have to think about variations in their lunch boxes this week.

Stomped back to kitchen and located container on bench next to Vegemite. Who put them there?!

Walk past Chippie in hall who, graciously, hands me two scrunched up baby wipes. Aww, nice. No real need to ponder where he got them, and was about to request of Grumpy that he please refrain Chippie from having baby wipes as a distraction when changing his nappy, as he tends to eat them. The wipes that is, not the nappies.

Was stopped short in this thought when I notice the box of wipes on the floor. Stick head in nursery door and find entire contents of previousy but one FULL wipes box strewn across fall. Each wipe, apparently, separated from all others. It appears that Chippie is no longer capable of just climbing up onto change table, but can also get down again with object in hand.

Muddle through getting dressed, ensure all school paraphernalia packed, raise eyebrows and pass a jumper and socks to Grumpy to put on Chippie, lock the door behind him as he leaves for work, and set off for school.

Where it is raining; a fine, yet constant drizzle.

Well, it has been so long since we had rain that I really can’t remember what to do with it. I blame my brain, which appears to have stopped functioning. Walk all the way to school and back with no umbrella or pram cover for Chippie’s pram.

Thankfully, this is not a problem for him and he falls asleep.

I, however, an be-t-shirted and WET!

Perhaps still too early for wine. Will have MUG of coffee instead.

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