Don't listen to a word the kid says

I read another blog awhile back where the wife claimed to be a work-week widow. I’d give credit where credit is due, but in all honesty I can’t remember who on earth it was that said it. I’m lucky I remembered to get dressed this morning, which accurately describes just how fried my brain currently is. I think I need a vacation. Anyway, I laughed at that line, as it so succinctly describes my life the majority of the time.

Awhile ago, I went to pick Kate up from her Aunt Sherry, who salvages what’s left of my sanity when Craig is gone by taking Kate on occasion. During this particular time, Craig had been on the road for what felt like eternity. After I got there, Sherry asked me if I wanted to know what Kate had told her. I’ve learned that the answer to this question should ALWAYS BE NO. If the answer is entertaining enough that it needs a qualifier, you do not want to know what it is. Instead, I nodded and said, “Yes, what?”

Apparently Kate decided to give her version of our screwed-up family dynamics. She said, “My mommy has a bed. It’s in her room. My daddy comes home and sleeps in it with her sometimes.”

I guess on the plus side, she kept it pretty PG-13, although I could see that conversation going south in a hurry. You can’t blame the kid for airing our dirty laundry this way, it is honestly the most literal interpretation possible, isn’t it?

One can only wonder what on earth she is going to be telling people when she gets to school. Frankly I’m getting hives thinking about it.