It's also a "if you're a contractor I've hired please no call no show, it's pretty awesome keeping the toddler away from the china on my table because all the furniture is moved out of the living room. Still."
It's a please cry because you don't think your contractions require apostrophes. And that I most likely invented contractions in order to ruin your life. And the kind of day where I require you to draw circles.
Today's the day you strike a deal with your sister that you will unload the dishwasher if she sweeps the floor. And when she reneges on the deal and you try to call her out she shrieks "You shouldn't have taken me seriously! Why'd you think I was serious?"
This kind of day is the kind where I make the mistake of letting you look at the Thomas toys. And when the time comes to leave, you punch me and try to bite me and yell at me "Homas says ow!"
Today was the day. The day when I was that mom. The mom carrying the shrieking, thrashing toddler through the store. And getting those looks. Because clearly I am the old woman who has so many children I don't know what to do. As the disapproval washed over me I may have said "Yeah I already tried frowning and tsking, but thanks for trying."
What's the name of my autobiography.....oh yeah, that's right Not My Finest Moment.