Took Ciera's Ipod and docking station away for not doing the laundry, had to force myself from not strangling Rakes after I told him to brush his teeth only to find him elbow deep in soapy water trying to give himself, and I quote "A Soap Tattoo Sleeve" and yelled for Trot to get in his bedroom only to find him UNDER his bed.
All the while Ang is fighting a Migraine and unable to help and Andrew Miller is doing his best impression of a Major League Pitcher and failing miserably.
So not only do I feel like a complete failure as a Dad, the Sox drop 3 out of 4 to the Blue Jays and I'm pretty sure I'm gonna be mainlining Maalox by the end of the week.
Sounds like a Thursday to me.
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