Broken

Tuesday night Madeleine stood on the upstairs toilet to try and reach something in the medicine cabinet. Joe and I have told her eight hundred million, kazillion times to please not stand on the toilet b/c it puts too much stress on the hinges of the toilet seat cover and, besides, there's nothing in the medicine cabinet she needs or should have anyway. So, despite our warnings to not stand on the toilet seat she decided to ignore us and, yep, tore the toilet seat cover plum off. We now have a toilet seat coverless toilet until I can get to the hardware store (chances of that happening today? Magic 8 Ball says: "My sources say no"). On a scale of one to ten, this hits my irritation level at about a five or six.

Yesterday I made the kids popovers for breakfast. About thirty minutes after I had pulled the popovers out of the oven and closed the oven door the oven door literally just FELL OFF. No one was touching it, no one was near it (thankfully!), nothing. The kids and I just sat and stared at it for about a solid minute with our mouths hanging open. I was able to jam the door back on somehow, but there's no doubt that oven is on its last legs. Irritation level? Oh, about an eight.

Yet today is a new day. The sun is shining, the house is relatively clean and the kids are only doing a moderate amount of whining. As long as the refrigerator door doesn't spontaneously fall off, I think we'll be fine.