Who Needs Lunch When You Have Mayhem?

Sometimes I forget to eat… and today was absolutely one of those days. It has been a whole entire day, okay? It was my Saturday to work, which normally means I can catch up from the blur that was the week before. I had dreams. Plans. Visions of being ahead of schedule like some Pinterest-version of myself.

Instead? Chaos. Weird issues. Random fires popping up everywhere. You know—Saturday.

But fine, at least after work I could relax… right after we went to the birthday party we were invited to. So I’m driving home, mentally sorting my life, and as I pull onto our street, I spot a truck hanging out next to our driveway. Odd. I turn in and see a woman on the outside of the truck calling to a dog.

My dog.

Cue the world’s biggest eye roll.

Jewel sees me and comes sprinting across the street like a furry toddler with a death wish. Please don’t get run over in front of my actual face, thanks. I pull over and—OF COURSE—we begin the traditional game of “I bet you won’t chase me.” And every single time she gets loose, someone inevitably asks:

“Is that your dog?”

No, Karen. I just enjoy chasing random dogs down suburban streets in my free time. Yes, she’s mine.

So we do what we always do. I get back in the car, she chases the car, we drive to the circle drive across the street, and I loop around until she gets tired enough for me to scoop her dramatic behind inside. Tradition.

“Okay kiddos—we’re now officially late. LET’S GO.”

We roll up to the birthday party at a karate studio. The kids go full ninja-raccoon and run around like the floors are lava. Phoebe skips her nap and enters her feral era. Eventually we get everyone home, and that’s when I realize…

We have no milk.

Absolutely not. I’m not fighting nighttime toddler chaos without milk. So I take Phoebe with me—she knocks out instantly, because of course she does. We get home right as she wakes up like Sleeping Beauty with bedhead. I put groceries away, throw a lasagna in the oven, and suddenly I’m wondering…

Why do I feel so icky?

Then it hits me: it’s almost 5 p.m., I’ve been running around since 6 a.m., and all I’ve eaten are two veggie straws and the latte I inhaled this morning.

Oh. Yeah. That’ll do it.

Confidently winging it—powered by chaos and caffeine.