Rotten day

Don't you hate it when you're laid up with a broken knee that you got when you fell down the stairs after tripping over the cat in a bizarre laundry-related incident, and your generally happy 4-month old chooses this moment to start cutting teeth, and the Tylenol doesn't make him feel much better and the Orajel doesn't last long enough, and you can't figure out how else to soothe him because what he really likes is movement, but you can't pick him up and carry him around because you're on crutches and you just don't have that many hands or that much coordination, so you put him in his swing to try to soothe him only to discover that the swing batteries are now dead and the swing will no longer rock in the particular rhythm to which your 4-month old has become accustomed and no other rhythm will pacify him, and you can't fix this because all of the batteries are kept in an inconveniently situated cupboard that you can't easily get to with the crutches, and they're also in a heavy case so that, even if you could get to it, you can't pick it up and sort through it while on the crutches because of the aforementioned lack of hands and coordination, and so you can't keep your 4-month old happy no matter what you do, so you just have to try to keep smiling and crooning to him in soothing tones while he screams directly in your ear in a piercing tone that sounds like some kind of demented whale in heat while your cat tears around the house like a bat-out-of-hell making bizarre noises as he tries to catch that one housefly that just won't die?

Yeah. Me too.

Wanna play?