The People I Live With

I’m worn down. Underneath my nose is chapped and raw, as I take in a series of short breaths.  My eyes are watery, my bones are achy and worst of all, I can’t taste my coffee.  My symptoms come as no surprise, just proof of the affection I have received from the people I live with.  These same people have been screaming and whining throughout the house, like a sword slicing through my ear drums.  They have been arguing and fighting, tumbling down to the floor, vibrating the walls. I am forced to live with people that are slobs, leaving piles of their things everywhere, dishes in the sink and a trail of dirty laundry. Sharing a bathroom with them has become intolerable, toothpaste on the vanity, paper on the floor, and you can almost always count on a surprise waiting in the toilet.  I live with an inconsiderate bunch, just when I sit, they ask for a favor.  Just when I take my first bite, they beg for seconds.  I cohabitate with the most unorganized group of people you could imagine.  The moment they put anything down, its lost!  Better yet, they rely on my ability to see before they are able to use anything. These people have no consideration for boundaries and what belongs exclusively to me. They are constantly asking for help, always needing, always wanting.

Just when I decide, “I’ve had enough, I’m going to find a new place to live,” they widen their adorable little eyes, reach their tiny little arms around my neck and call me “mommy.”

Although they aren’t the ideal housemates, I do love them anyway!

It has just been a rough day!