Don’t you just hate it when…

–Your son’s teacher calls and asks if you knew he was failing her English and Math classes, and that she’s been sending notes home since before Christmas outlining the assignments he was missing, and that the term ended last Friday but she can turn in grades up until the end of school the next day, so he can spend all night trying to find, do, and organize all those missing assignments?

–You realize after your daughter unloaded the dishwasher that those dishes didn’t get washed?

–You get out your 72 hour kits (after a very motivational talk on Sunday) to take stock and update, and find that there must have been weevil eggs hiding out in something you put in there, so now there are dead weevil carcasses in the crackers, around the toilet paper and other places you’d rather not think about (thankfully it’s not an emergency and we have time to get new weevil free things put in there)?

–You get to host a playgroup of four and five year olds for the third time in a row?

Yeah, me, too.