Apples and Oranges

Like apples and oranges, black and white, cheese and noodles, puking and pooping just go together, and if you're my children they go together explosively. We have had no shortage of either in my house this week. And do you know what I need right about now? After a week of changing 8-10 dirty diapers a day, oftentimes accompanied with having to clean the carpet because said diapers failed to do their jobs? After having to change and wash my sons crib sheets no less than three times? Do you know what I could use? That's right, a break.

So, tonight when my husband gets home I will point to the fridge and say, "Help yourself to some delicious left-overs honey!" And I will promptly walk out the door, get into my car and drive. Drive across town to Burger King so I can sit in the relatively empty parking lot of Target(so as to be free of people staring at me and thinking about the poor, pathetic, wild eyed and bushey-haired woman eating alone in her car. And you thought insecurity disappeared with the ending of highschool. ha.) and eat my dinner. Eat my deliciously disgusting fat soaked burger and fries in silence. Sounds blissful, doesn't it? No? Well, yeah, but I take what I can get. Forgot the Pill, THIS is birth control.