Standing in my fraying underwear and damp nursing bra (having just stripped off after being puked on) changing a very miserable baby (having just puked on himself after hacking up a lung after catching mummy's cold) and being whacked summarily on the sizable arse by the four year old "I can see your booty butt. Hey. Momma. There's a hole in your underwear. Hey. It jiggles."
And there's no daycare tomorrow. Happy President's Day, Bane of Working Parents Everywhere!!!! Hoorah!
And, yes, I am evilbadmummy who dreams of her desk. And that private toilet stool. And lunch hour. A whole hour.
Actually. I don't know if there's much more heartbreaking than a three-month old with a nasty hacking cough. So I feel doubly evil. Doubly doubly.