She’s exhausted—again. Last night she was up three times before the sun. First to find a pacifier behind the crib. Next to escort her oldest to the bathroom. And finally to do something she can’t remember but might have involved a sock. This morning St. Luke’s called to say the youngest didn’t have Bah-bah for naptime, so she took a half-day of comp time to spend forty minutes getting the stuffed bear. Now, she’s finished up the dinner dishes, and she just realized she’s still got on her hose and heels.
She should take a shower before going to bed early, but she just can’t bear to get her hands wet again. She combs her short dark hair with her water-wrinkled fingers. She cut it that way to skip showers on days like this. She doesn’t bother smelling herself just wrings out the dishrag before wiping under her arms.
158 words on day 617