Saturday, May 30, 2015

Blame

Remember the Shel Silverstein poem "Blame" about the child's wonderful handwritten book, tragically eaten by a goat, never to be recreated?

That's my post from the morning.  It was about the desperate tiredness of the end of the school year, comparing it to how urgently you need to go to the bathroom when you can't work the lock in a public bathroom stall, even when you didn't really have to go in the first place.  Anyway.  It's gone. 

Needless to say, I am exhausted (though happily not burned out) at the end of this school year.  I'm in the Cereal-for-dinner range of tiredness, which is about two steps away from the Do-I-really-need-to-brush-my-teeth-today? zone.

To save us all from that unpleasantness, I'm taking it easy on myself.  Last night I made the boys scrambled egg sandwiches- the easiest/fastest meal I could think of.  M loved them so much he asked me to make them for his birthday (which is... next October).  L was significantly less impressed.  There were tears.  I'm not the only one who's exhausted, I'm sure.

M tried to convince/admonish him with the funniest line I have maybe ever heard when I was this tired.  "L!  These are McDonalds' world renowned egg mcmuffins!"


This is not a recipe.  It's just a funny story and an encouragement to hang in there.  There's nothing wrong with the easy way sometimes.

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