As Philip and I settled in this evening, I with my chosen craft and he with his, for a quiet movie night, I glanced at the clock, noting, at just past 8 o'clock, that we may even be able to squeeze in two movies if they were of reasonable length.
But it was not to be so.
Between rising to investigate the pending "severe thunderstorm" rolling into town, multiple snack breaks for this hungry mama, a pause to mop up the half-bottle of juice which my husband successfully exploded on the kitchen floor, his attempts at brewing tea, changing a little boy who was hot and sweaty in his crib, then, later, bathing said boy who had now vomited his dinner over himself and his crib, comforting same boy, reading another bed-time story and nestling him back into bed, running the washing machine to rinse soiled bedding and pajamas, then running another cycle to include the juice-soaked towels and mop-head, along with aforementioned soiled bedding and pajamas, it would seem a two-hour movie can, apparently, easily consume a span of three and a half hours.
When did movie night become so complicated?
At least we didn't have a tornado scare to further delay our movie watching. :)
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