Quality time with the husband

I arrive home after a full day at work.
Find toilet lid up in mudroom bathroom.
(The toilet seat position is not a gender issue in our house. It is a cat issue. The house rule is that both seat and lid are left in the down position so the cat cannot stand in the bowl. ::Don't ask. He just does:: And then he walks around the house with wet paws. So... seat and lid down. Always.)
I move to lower the lid and see the world's largest "log" sunken in the bottom of the bowl.
Lovely.
I flush.
The water rises. It's plugged.
Super lovely.
Before I attempt another flush and potentially flood the bathroom with lovely log floaties, I trudge through the house, dodge a child who'd been hiding and waiting to JUMP OUT AT ME (isn't this fun? why bother wasting time flushing a friggin' turd when you can have so much fun scaring the crap out of your mother, I ask you...), I change into the world's most awful ugly clothing, grab a plunger and brush, and trudge back to the scary thing in the toilet.
I flush, it goes, I'm happier.
But heck, I'm here and I'm armed with chemicals, I might as well clean the throne, too.

Meanwhile, the husband is cooking supper.
He's busy and stressed. He has half a dozen projects he's brought home from work, and he's had no time to do any of them because children are children and have sucked every moment away from him since he's been home.
As I pass by the kitchen on my way to clean the second bathroom (why not, I'm already icky and still armed with cleaners), he informs me that the 10-year-old had gone out with a friend and they were overdue to return home. The husband has tried to call the boy on his cell phone, but for some reason, there's no answer.
Could I please drive out and see if I can find them?
Sure.
(If you're paying attention, yes, this is the first we've spoken since I got home. Heartwarming, huh?)
I put the cleaners down in the second bathroom, grab my purse and keys and venture out.
I find them 3 blocks away, unaware of the time.
"It's 7 o'clock!?! I've gotta get home!" declares friend. "Can you give me a ride?"
Grand.
Sure.
I'm wearing my ratty coat, torn jeans, and brown slip-on shoes that proudly show off my fuzzy pink slipper socks.
Yup, I'd be glad to drive you home and meet your parents, kid. Thanks.

Get home again.
Eat supper.
Since the husband cooks, I do the dishes.
I scream at the kids to go to bed. Go to bed. GO TO BED!
Can I relax now?
Oh, wait, apparently I was in the middle of cleaning toilets.
Clean toilet.
Put away cleaners.
Finally sit down in livingroom and watch TV until the husband is done with his work.
Fall asleep in the chair.
He eventually wakes me up to tell me he's going to bed.
Just as well.
By now I've forgotten what his name was anyway.



Have a nice weekend, everyone!
Spend some quality time with your family.