Emily vs. the Universe

Remember old Scott Pilgrim? Well he faced nothing compared to what I put up with yesterday. That's not actually true, but yesterday I felt like it was. 

It was a fairly normal day. Babies were napping and I was upstairs doing my Monday chores (even though it was Tuesday, Monday was a holiday.. yes even for chores) which are my bathroom and bedroom. As I'm happily wiping down the shower, I get a call from my dad. He needs me to call and straighten something out with his cable company. For those who don't know, my dad is older and has suffered a stroke. He lives independently, but my siblings and I manage his bills and things for him. I've been trying to figure this issue out for a couple of weeks, so I got on the phone on hold with the cable company once more. I decided to continue cleaning the bathroom while on hold - knowing it could be a while. I'm working with only one glove since I took the other off to use the phone. Of course, as I go to squirt cleaner into the toilet, instead of coming out of the spout, it fills the lid and starts leaking out to the side. I try unsuccessfully to close and reopen the top hoping the cleaner will come out the spout and the same thing keeps happening. Finally I take the whole top off and pour the cleaner into the toilet with no spout using about half of the bottle and toss the bottle into the trash can. This would not be possible without getting toilet cleaner on my un-gloved hand, so I start frantically rinsing my hand in the sink. While rinsing, I remember that we're out of soap, like in the whole house except the kitchen sink. Fabulous. I take the lid off our soap dispenser and pour as much as possible onto my hand and begin to scrub like crazy.  Mind you, I'm on the phone, on hold.

Finally a voice comes on the phone - I've already pressed 8 buttons to navigate a menu and entered the account number and ten digit phone number. The recorded voice tells me that they are experiencing difficulties and I should call back later. And it hangs up on me! After calling another number, navigating another menu, entering the account and phone numbers again, I reach a human (I think) and the issue is finally resolved. OH, but not before my nephew wakes up from his nap thus ending the time I had to get chores done.

Downstairs I go to eat some lunch while my bathroom remains half-cleaned. One look in the fridge reminds me that I did not go grocery shopping over our fun Labor Day weekend and we have pretty much nothing to eat for lunch. I spot a bagged salad on the top shelf dated 3 days ago. It hasn't been opened yet so I take my chances. I also have one piece of a personal sized pizza (so, the size of my palm) left-over from lunch the day before with my brother and SIL. I start in on the salad. It's completely wilted and likely to give me indigestion for the rest of the month. Done with that. The pizza was "spinoccoli" and had one giant floret of broccoli that was cooked barely beyond raw and some brown spinach. I picked those things off leaving and absolutely pathetic mangled piece of dough with a few hunks of tomato on it. Yum. That was my lunch.

Bright spot of the day... (you knew there had to be one) I get word that my nephew is being picked up early, like in 10 minutes. I don't care how you slice it, taking care of one baby instead of two is a help on the best of days. I get him sent off and my husband calls. "Meet me *here* STAT!" I race around, make myself presentable, grab a few things for the baby and run out the door at the last possible second. I arrive missing exactly I needed to bring. Rats. But, of course.

Later that night we're sitting at the table eating dinner and the baby is just not cooperating. She won't eat anything and keeps yelling for something in my husband's direction. We're hiding things, telling her to eat what's on her tray, ignoring her behavior. Finally I assume she doesn't want to eat and put her down. She fusses and walks over to the kitchen island... just on the other side of my husband... atop of which is her cup of milk. Mommy fail. We hand her the cup. She promptly sucks down all of her milk and happily goes on to eat her dinner. Ugh. I felt absolutely rotten for that one.

SO... Emily vs. Scott Pilgrim?  Bring it.