It always takes for-fucking-ever to get out of the house, for pretty much any reason. The day didn’t start off on the right foot, as I woke up more than a half hour late to wake up Weasley to go to pre-k. Actually, no. Let me correct myself. I am actually not at fault here. My alarm clock, Malfoy, the 2.5 year old woke me up more than a half hour late. How rude. You need to step your game up, son; this is unacceptable.
Anyway, so I didn’t wake up until 7:35….I try to be out of the house by 7:45 (which, lately is more like 7:55) to get to the school at 8:00 (which I guess has been more like 8:10), which we need to walk 10 blocks (which is actually ME walking, pushing 60lbs+ of a double stroller / children combination. Goddamn heavy-ass Maclaran). I did wake Weasley up to try to hurriedly start his day. He used the bathroom…..and stayed in there. As he is doing this,
I am wasting time Malfoy is wasting my time by pestering me about the television, which I keep trying to explain we need to hurry because it is very late and have no time for Power Rangers, as the minutes digitally tick away, forgotten, on the cable box. I eventually get to the bathroom to find Weasley laying on the floor for no reason that is obvious to me. He is deaf to my complaints, and pleas. He cares not for his education, nor the fact that I was too lazy busy to go back to the laundromat last night, and therefore still had a load of wash that (I was praying) was still in a washer and needed to be dried.
….To be continued. Malfoy is bothering me with the cutest “Please, please, please” to play Angry Birds (which they just refer to as “birds”) on this piece of technology, while we wait for Weasley to finish his cartoon so we can finally get out of the damned house). Did I mention the impending ride on the train will be taking with them? No? It’s gonna rock, I can tell you that.