So we (well, actually, I can blame this one fully on Hubby) had our first (of many to come, I'm sure) preschool disaster yesterday. Seems Hubby FORGOT to pick up Eldest after preschool... Preschool called home (my Sis was babysitting) and notified her, and she in turn called Hubby at work. He was horrified (as he rightly should have been) and rushed to go get him. Was Eldest traumatized, weeping, scared or mad? Nope, he was totally unphased and thought it was "cool" that he got to go to the Office. Was I self-righteous and did I make Hubby feel even guiltier after the fact? You betcha.
So I'm a dork. I LOVE TV. I seriously look forward to 8pm each night, when the boyz are tucked in bed, the lights are dim, I can have a glass of wine and not worry about it getting spilled (we inevitably have some sort of liquid spillage at LEAST once a day in our household), and I can snack on whatever I want without having to share....which, this week, is NOTHING, since I'm trying to count calories (Sidebar: Day One of dieting was a success--less than 1,000 calories plus a workout at the gym--But I tend to shoot my wad early with dieting. Next week I'll be only consuming chocolate or something ridiculous like that.)
Thumbs up to the new Monday night shows The Class (CBS comedy) and Studio 60 (NBC-hour drama). It's pathetic--I now find it hard to sit through actual TV shows with real actors because of my addiction to reality television. So I watched the entire CBS comedy lineup until 10, thought about heading to bed, and then got sucked into Studio 60. Mind you, I still flipped the channel over to Wife Swap and Super Nanny during commercials--just to get my reality fix!