My hand held kitchen mixer is in my den floor. There's a tiny purse in my kitchen. A giant hula hoop graces my living room. One shoe each of about 4 different pairs lies scattered near the piano. A huge stuffed green frog is looking at me from my foyer. Daddy's left shoe and a couch pillow found their way into the hall. A transformer and baby doll bottle are in the girl's bathroom. An empty Capri Sun container is on my dresser. A tiny red t-shirt is in the office. Wow... and in the time it took for me to type all that, a bottle of Children's Tylenol and Ibuprofen now decorate the hearth. The more I pick up, the more things magically appear. I am surrounded by little noses to wipe and spilled drinks to mop. I have a points reward account online for all the diapers and wipes I buy. Chocolate milk and apple juice is in my fridge more than any other liquid. I have detangled more curls than Rapunzel could ever dream of. The cover warming me right now is an old baby blanket instead of a nice throw.
This is my world. And I wouldn't trade it for anything.
You're viewing that partially-drank, partially-spilled glass of day-old, room-temperature chocolate milk half full.
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