When I devote my morning to serving your needs, putting up with your whining and kvetching, when I make sure you have food that you refuse to eat, when I ensure that you have clean underoos and socks and then, and only then, I sit down to do my work for which I get paid, which ensures you can continue to live the lifestyle to which you wish to become accustomed, PLEASE for the love of all that is holy, be quiet. Otherwise, someone’s going to drug rehab. I don’t care if it’s you or me, as long as I get three hours of relative quiet per day. Your dad is home now, and I am putting on my earphones and I. Am. Working. I’ll be working while you eat the dinner I planned and checked on this afternoon. I’ll be working while you are chillaxing as a family unit in front of the tv tonight. And I’ll be working long after you are sleeping. I’m working. Thanks!
Love,
MOM