Productivity, It Ain't.

So I ended my last post on a positive note - my solemn promise to, if I recall corectly, feed my family leftovers and fuck the laundry in exchange for actually being productive TODAY, Monday, the return to the Work Week.

Guess what?

Snow day!

hah-hah. Obviously the universe had other plans, probably spurred on by global climate change: Fuck Erica.

The kids were, of course, thrilled. The little one in particular starts out every snowy day by saying "Now I can use my butt-sled!" The butt sled - a present from Santa Claus who, in his apparent senility, forgot how rarely we have actual, sleddable snow.

Today, for instnace, is actually more of a "sleet-and-ice-day," rendering it completely unsuitable for butt-sledding.

But my kids, as they so typically do, also had other plans for me today: Mom! Mom! Stay in the office! We have a surprise fo ryou! I promise it's not bad!

For the past 46 minutes I have heard:

Huh! Where does mom keep the window cleaner? Hold the dustpan still! You can sweep the bathroom! Oh no, we broke it! Careful with those plants! Move them all over here onto this table so I can dust the window sill [My plants - my indoor garden - include numerous potted herbs and several towering amaryllis and the notion of my 4 and 6 YO's moving them puts my heart right into my throat] and SSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHH be QUIET or mom will KNOW what we're DOING! MOM! Don't come out! If you have to go to the bathroom just cover your eyes and don't peek!

And I am sequestered here in the computer room, unable to be productive because I am so utterly captivated and sniffly about the fact that my kids are spending their morning cleaning the house for me.

I love it when a plan comes together. Even if it's the universe's and not mine.