I picked the oldest kid up from school and we went grocery shopping. He alternately whined and acted spastic the entire time...and then asked for a chocolate bar.
We came home and, after I put all the groceries away, had an hour or so of work to do. (It's a wonder I don't get fired for all the work that has piled up in the last year.)
I made dinner...nothing special but I still made an effort. I even did the dishes while I cooked...and re-ran the load of stinky laundry that husband washed a couple days ago but failed to dry.
Husband came home with the youngest kid, quite literally plunked him down on the floor, pronounced his need for some Sudafed, and disappeared upstairs. I found him there two hours later passed out across the bed.
I fed the boys and tried to grab a few bites of my own dinner in between the baby's screams (because I wasn't shoveling it in his face fast enough), let the boys play for a bit, and thankfully announced it was bedtime. At that point Sam decides to chastise me (in THAT voice) with, "Mommy, you were SUPPOSED TO make me Kool Aid." I told him, through gritted teeth, to go upstairs to bed.
I took the baby upstairs to bed, came back downstairs, and as I was donning my boots, my husband groggily stumbles in (using THAT voice) saying, "Where are you going?" I silently walked out to the barn and fed the horses that had yet to have their evening feed. I probably could have closed the door a little quieter behind me.
When I came back in the house? Silence (though every light was still inexplicably left on). Nobody in sight...husband apparently went back to bed.
Yeah...you're all WELCOME!