I lean my head against the cold metal of the banister. I’m mad. At pretty much everyone in this family
“Levi, stop. Stop! Levi, stoooooooop!”
Why on earth did I think it would be a good idea to take my hyperactive nephew to the park alone? I need like five buffers with me, to surround the little monkey and make sure he doesn’t dive into oncoming traffic.
I am so stressed out, I can’t even breathe.
All I wanted to do today was go over my packing list, make sure everything is clearly labeled, get a haircut, and take a long hot shower before slipping into bed for a long, restful sleep.
Instead, I’m chasing after a three-year-old with enough energy to power the entire G.O., while my too-long ponytail flaps behind me and my shirt is sweat-plastered to my skin. Lovely.
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