There is a teen who is tasked with managing the dishwasher.
How many dirty dishes do I need to find in my cabinets and drawers before it becomes acceptable to stab the teen with a dirty butter knife?
I mean, just a little flesh wound, not aiming for a vital organ or anything… Yet.
Not only is today my daughter’s 14th birthday, it is also laundry day.
Not the scheduled sort of laundry day, but that “Oh fuck, if I don’t do some laundry NOW, clothing won’t even be an option anymore” kind of laundry day.
This is why I look like some sort of… goth wench pirate with argyle tights.
Luckily she has a high threshold of tolerance before the “my mother is too embarrassing to be seen out in public with her” cutoff kicks in, and apparently this outfit doesn’t do it.
It probably would if I wore it on one of the homeschool meeting days.
Hmmm… Now there’s a thought.