One of those days

It's been one of those days. You know, the sort of day where you realize that the chicken you were planning on having for dinner has been in the fridge just a little too long. You're tempted to use it anyway, but after googling salmonela, you decide that throwing it away is the safer option.

The sort of day where you realize that throwing it away wasn't a safe option at all, 'cause there's son number one, busily excavating too-old raw chicken from the trash and spreading it around on one of the chairs. Suddenly reupholstering the chairs jumps to the top of the priority list. Especially since that's not the same chair as the one that he gleefully poured his milk on an hour ago.

It's been the sort of day where as you're trying to scrub the butter off the outside of the refrigerator door, son number two squeezes the trigger of the bottle in your hand and gives himself a faceful of Orange Blast.

Yeah... It's just pretty much been one of those days.