This is why people run away and join the circus

Today has been a day that I wouldn't care to repeat. And it's only 2:30 p.m.

First of all, when the girls and I went outside this morning to get in the van and drive to the YMCA, there was an inch of ice covering the entire vehicle, in the manner that chocolate covers an Almond Joy, only not nearly as appealing.

Second of all, something is wrong-ish with my stomach, and I'm hoping that it's the type of wrong-ishness that has a 24-hour limit. It's the kind of thing that doesn't render one sick enough to lie on the couch like Camille, looking all fragile, pale and interesting, inciting compassion and a desire to buy ice cream in one's family members. No, all it does is make them seem like insensitive monsters who loom over me to ask only one question: "Can we have something good for dinner tonight?"

Thirdly, Meelyn pronounced the name "Thucydides" as "Thucky-dieds." Which made me laugh, even while I was inwardly writhing in pain.

The I was barely able to stop a ridiculous argument between the girls which culminated in them leaning across the dining room table and trying to scribble in one another's composition workbooks. Yes, I know. They're very lucky I didn't beat them senseless with a Bible while screaming, "LOVE IS PATIENT! LOVE IS KIND! LOVE IS NEVER RUUUUUUUUDE!!!!!"

And then there's my stomach...

Aisling has been even louder, bouncier and more strident than usual, causing me to give her a look earlier that immediately made her wail, "You don't love me! You love her better! Waaah-hah-hah-hah...." at a decibel level that has formerly been achieved only at Metallica concerts.

Ohhhh, my stomach........