When you text your child to bring you a glass of water when he is on the first floor of the house and you are on the third.
When you wait until you can just barely keep yourself from losing control of your bladder before dragging your ass away from your cave. (Like now.)
You're seriously considering installing a bathroom as well as a small fridge and microwave in your third floor bedroom JUST so you don't have to leave your cave. Ever.
You finally drag yourself away from your cave, venture out into the world and then, as you're driving along, you smell flowers and burst into gut wrenching sobs. (Smells are very powerful memory inducers for me)
You're now forced to turn around and go back to your cave rather than let anyone see you with swollen blood shot eyes.
I am relying heavily on my 15 and 17 year old tonite. I know that's not an ideal solution but I honestly can't function normally at the moment. I'm in the wings keeping an eye on things but the boys are handling the legwork. And hey.. they owe me. I've spent the last seventeen years taking care of their bratty little butts. It's time for some payback.
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