I Know It's My Fault

I take full responsibility for what I am about to tell you.  I did it.  It is my fault.  That doesn't take away the fact that it drives me crazy.

I just spent the last hour, time which I wanted to dedicate to typing up some notes from a meeting I attended last night, being my daughter's snack dispenser/minion.

I have mentioned before, that out of necessity and my own heebeejeebees I started giving Haley her snacks many years ago in small white ramekins.  The kind that you might make individual creme brulees in.  It is a good use of them, because I never make creme brulee. 

Haley brings me the snack container and the ramekin and I fill the ramekin, close the container, give it back to her and she puts it away.

It is a great system.

This evening she has been bringing me a bag of chips every minute and a half.  I am trying to type my notes.  I get about half a sentence typed and there she is with the bag and the ramekin.  After I dole out the chips I have to wash my hands because I don't want to mess up the keyboard.

She got thirsty, of course.  So she brought me her cup (with a lid) and a bottle of Gatorade.  Again my fault.

She was sick, I thought she might have lost some fluids so I bought her some Gatorade.  That was several days ago, she likes it.  I bought some more.  She wants it all the time.

She brings me the snack and then the drink and then the snack and then the drink. I type a sentence then I get her one or the other, I wash my hands, I sit back down and type another sentence and there she is again.

I was on the verge of screaming.

I know that a full bottle of Gatorade for a kid her size in one afternoon is not a good idea, I have been watering it down to make it last.

She finally finished the bag of chips (she wouldn't just eat out of the bag, I asked) and the bottle of Gatorade.  She wanted her hands washed and then she went upstairs to play.

Whew!

I finally got to finish my notes and got them emailed.  I thought I would never finish it.

It's all my fault, but I am not complaining. 

I like that she is neat.  I am glad she is feeling better.  When she was sick she wasn't up near that much.  I got a little rest but I didn't like the reason I got it.  She is back to normal. 

Normal can be exhausting.