Please tell me I’m not the only one who drools when I fall deep asleep in a weird place at a non-night time time.
As I do 95% of the days, I fell asleep with Annabelle as I laid her down for her afternoon nap. I SO look forward to making up a silly story, snuggling that sassy babe, and dozing off together. My body is pretty reliable about popping up out of the cat nap after about 15-20 minutes, ready to tackle the rest of the day. (Never the drooling type of nap.)
But today, notsomuch.
This is what happened a few hours ago.
I wake up to the sound of my four year old lego master yelling in my face, “There’s people at the door!”
I, of course, bolt up, smooth my hair, wipe away my drool (how old AM i?!), and run downstairs (thankful to have normal clothes on). I rack my brain…what did I forget? Is this a swap? What did I sell? Maybe it’s just a package delivery that needs a signature …
I swing the door open to two guys, about my age, with buckets of steaming hot water and poles. They come in.
I’m still like 80% asleep and my brain is not functioning. Who are these people???
“Hi! So sorry, I was like dead asleep!” I say, hoping they’ll tell me what in the world they’re at my house to do.
This could have ended poorly.
Then it hit me! They were at my house to clean the windows! They never told me an exact time, so it never made it into my mental register for the day. Also I didn’t check my planner this morning, because … I’m me.
I am excited for about 1 second for the prospect of clean windows. Then I look into our kitchen. Complete disaster. And all the other rooms. My eyes land on a huge puddle of milk beside the kitchen table. I have a vague flashback to Coleton yelling upstairs before naptime “I spilled my milk!” and me yelling back, “Clean it up!”
I smile at the guys. I ask them kindly to hang tight for 10 seconds (they’ve potentially already been waiting more than a hot minute outside on the coldest day of the winter.)
I run up to my room to hide any visible undies, bras, or cash and slap my face so I wake up a little bit.
I look in the mirror and see my mascara mess. I throw a bunch of crap into the closet.
I run back down and tell them it’s all good, and to skip the rooms with the sleeping children.
One of them asks if he can use the restroom. I tell him I need to check it first. I flush the toilet, pick up the pants off the floor, and let him in.
Three minutes later, while I’m frantically throwing dishes into the dishwasher, Coleton walks in on the poor guy.
Y’all. THIS. IS. MY LIFE.
Bless it. I need a fizz stick.