Yesterday I washed four loads of laundry, plucked 101 toys off the floor, scrubbed eight sets of muddy foot and paw prints and vacuumed the contents of our sandbox from the floor. Enter my mom, who scanned the kitchen and advised, “If only you’d do a little bit every day, you’d be able to keep up with this mess!”
At which point do mothers lose their grips on reality? I’d like to know how much time I have left.