Adventures in Domesticity

Well, my mother has abandoned ship for the early part of this week, flying off to the Mile-High City (that's Denver, for those of you who don't...know that) for some kind of work related thingy. So while she's been gone I am the current official capitan of the ship, as opposed to the unofficial capacity in which I usually serve. And already, there have been games afoot.

My first joy and crown befell me the very first day, which happened to be Martin Luther King Jr. Day and my sister happened to be at home instead of at school. And while at home, her first act of the morning was to knock an almost completely full jar of jam out of the fridge where it proceeded to smash to bits on our floor. So my sister comes to get me, out of the bathroom, mind you, with this pouty look on her face and says, "Sister, I did something bad." So before I even had my coffee, I'm using my bare hands to scoop up peach and mango jam that is laced with shards of glass and then trying to scrub the floor before the jam solidified into a shoe sucking stick. All this while my sister sweeps up the rest of the glass and assures me how lucky we are that the jam didn't splatter all over the floor or that it didn't land on her foot. I just know that I'm thankful.

Today I was even more delighted when my sister burst into my room, flung open the door at 6:45 am this morning and said that she had set her alarm wrong and the bus was coming in 5 minutes and I had to drive her to school. So after only 5 hours of sleep, I was dragged out of my bed where I had to spend 15 minutes sitting in high school parking lot traffic with a bunch of angry soccer moms and their SUV tanks with which they tried to steamroll me and my little Sentra. And then when I got back home, I could not fall back asleep.

However, we had eggrolls and crab rangoons for dinner tonight. And eggrolls cover a multitude of sins. And broken jam-jars. And misset alarm clocks.