The Underwear Curse

I am losing it, folks. After yesterday’s post about packing for a road trip, what did I forget? My daughter’s underwear. Good Lord, you just can’t take me anywhere.

I was so proud of myself, remembering swim diapers and burp cloths. But when I was helping my daughter get ready for bed last night, the underwear was missing. Unbelievable.

Personally, I think that I really did pack it and evil magic fairies invaded the suitcase and removed the underwear. What? Hasn’t that ever happened to you?

I’m on my fourth or fifth cup of coffee this morning. We had awful thunderstorms last night with a ton of lightning, and it set off the house alarms twice. We’re not sure whether they were smoke alarms or burglar alarms, but it wasn’t fun waking up at 1:00 a.m. and then 1:15 a.m., not knowing what was going on. Of course, the baby woke up, too, and that interrupted things even more. On the bright side, we’ll go to the pool today and my children will once again, attempt to drown themselves because they haven’t learned to swim after two years of swimming lessons from the YMCA. Who me? Bitter? Naaaahhhh…