The Hunger Games aka The Laundry, Dishes, and Dirt Piled Up

All I have read about on Twitter for weeks is The Hunger Games. Seriously. I had no clue what it even was. A book? A movie? A cult?

Yes. Yes. And yes.

On Monday evening, I decided I'd had enough. I had been out of the loop for far too long. To exist as an intelligent human being, a functioning member of society, I needed to know what this Hunger Games mess was all about.

Little did I know, from the moment I downloaded it to my iPad Monday evening until 1 o'clock today, I would cease to exist as a functioning member of society.

My plan backfired.

For 40 hours, I read whenever possible. I even dreamed about Katniss. We were BFFs.

I abandoned my position as mother and allowed Dora and the Neverland Pirates to take over. K ate breakfast watching tv while I sat by, with my coffee, reading. I allowed her to nap until 6:30 yesterday because I couldn't bring myself to stop reading. Naps past 5 o'clock are strictly forbidden when I'm on duty. Today, I put her lunch on the table and started reading, oblivious to whether or not she actually ate anything. I would have known if she had choked, I'm sure.

Meanwhile, the laundry piled up. So did the dishes. Apparently, if you don't keep up with that crap, you will run out of clean spoons and clean pajamas. Thankfully, dear husband went grocery shopping yesterday so we didn't starve during my "absence."

I'm sure the members of my house are glad I finished the book so quickly. Though, it turns out, I'm not finished. Evidently, this cult book is a trilogy.

Sigh

I am now faced with a dilemma, do I take a break and regroup or download the next book? Life is full of such tough decisions.

Renewed Interest

I have a car. Well, I guess technically I have a small suv. It's neither male nor female. It does not have a name, and as long as I'm the owner, it wont. I don't love it. I don't hate it. It's just a car. It gets me from A to B. And isn't that really a cars only purpose?

I am not one who needs a fancy car. A fellow mom accidentally let her door swing open a little hard on a windy day and dented the door of my car. I was not concerned. I did not lose sleep over the dent. Because, as I said, it's just a car.

However, a few weeks ago, I was reminded that a car is not merely a car. My kindhearted brother in-law called my car a mom car.

::Shudder::

A mom car?? It's not a mini-van. But then, I opened my eyes to what he saw from his back seat vantage point. The floor of my car was littered with nature...as he so kindly pointed out, from every season.  There was sand and seashells on the floor. Yes, you read that correctly. I had two seashells on the floor under the brake pedal. Actually, I think one was a clam shell and the other a pretty, purple tinted shell. K is a collector of things, I blame the shells on her. There were Ginkgo leaves and pine needles. And dirt. Lots of dirt. Not just on the floor. Dirt in crevices. I'm not sure how much experience you have with dirt in car crevices, I have a ton. And from my extensive knowledge, I've learned that dirt in crevices mixed with drops of coffee, water, milk, and apple juice turns into gunk. My car's crevices are filled with gunk.

My car, sadly, wasn't just littered with nature. There was, among other things, a camping parking pass (pretty sure I didn't go camping in 2011,) the rubber head of a mallet (???,) a roll of paper towels, a box of Kleenex, 3 flashlights (you really can never be too prepared,) 2 pairs of Dora underwear, and approximately 47 hair ties.

I needed help. But I wasn't quite ready to do anything about it yet. Enter birds. God awful, berry eating birds.


They left me no choice. And after multiple neighbors commented on the state of my car, I had to go to the car wash. It was time. I am a mom, true. But maybe I don't have to drive a mom car. 

So, it seems I have a renewed interest in my car, for now anyway. I've cleaned it inside and out. I've removed all shells and mallets, receipts and magazines. There is still gunk, but I'm working on it. Be damned, I will not have a mom car! Goldfishies...you have met your match!