Why do perfectly good days get ruined by perfectly irrational fights? And why can’t I vent on here and say what I really want to say? Because this is the www and people read this, including people I might be mad at. Oh well. Maybe just venting in a round about way will help me cool off a little. The problem with these fights is that on the surface they seem like something silly or irrational, but underneath there is a lot more than that. Maybe it’s just that I’ve been stuck in the house practically all week long with a boob-magnet and a terrible two year old. Maybe it’s that I haven’t had a break from them since way before Mother’s Day. Maybe it’s because I know I wont get a break or even any true understanding unless my husband gets a sex change. Maybe it’s because I really am selfish and I just want to spend a whole weekend camping with my family and get away from this house that I’ve been in all week long. Cleaning, and watering the lawn, and feeding the kids, and making dinner, and balancing the checkbook, and making lunch, and watering the lawn some more, and disciplining Drew, and feeding the boob-magnet, and getting the boob-magnet to stop crying, and getting the older boob to stop crying, or do what I ask him, or be polite, or whatever. I’m reminded of that Amy Grant song, Hats. Why are all these things on my head? Well okay, I vented and I don’t feel any better. I think I’m going to call my mom.