Yesterday I gave blood. I thought it would be a good thing to do. I shouldn't have.
Yesterday I dropped off the two youngest at my neighbor's house and Reanne went to go play with a friend. She had strict instructions to tell the parents that I wouldn't be home so they would know. Yesterday I came home from giving blood and picked up Sierra and Grant and tried to pick up Reanne. She wasn't at the friend's house. She was at my house with the friend, her brother and two other kids from the neighborhood.
My house was covered with cut up, wet plastic bags. My floor was covered with water and bits of grated cheese. My laundry room was filled with soaking wet towels, sweaters, and whatever else Reanne found to wipe up some of the water. All the children were helping themselves to the food in my fridge and my house really smelled like wet cheese.
The one nice thing was that Reanne pretty much knew to be quiet and take what was coming. She was grounded from friends for a week and she didn't even say that I was being unfair. The whole time I couldn't help thinking, "Is this what it feels like when your teenager has a party at the house while your gone?" NOT looking forward to teenage life.