It’s happening.
The blocks are strangling me and the coloring books are mocking me. I can’t bear to look at another stuffed animal or listen to another episode of “Dora.” If I have to read Corduroy or Tractor Mac one more time I’m going to die. Seriously. I’m going to forget how to breathe and keel over on the living room floor, probably landing so hard on Savannah’s jewelry box that it will never play “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” again.
If there’s a just God, that’s exactly what will happen.
Does anyone else’s brain shrivel up and implode when all it has to think about is colors, shapes, and macaroni?
Holy lack of mental stimulation.
Am I the only teacher who panics at the sight of puzzles and princess dresses only four weeks into summer break?
(I would write more but I’ve got a sing-a-long DVD parenting my children right now and Old MacDonald won’t shut up about his pigs and chickens. As soon as my ears stop bleeding, I’ll consider expanding this post.)
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