Uncle.

Ok, universe. I give in. You win. I quit. Just please, please quit shitting on me, will you?

So, today, the day after the worst day of my life, was the worst day of my life. I am drinking a margarita from a very large beer stein right now, so I'll be brief.

This morning: Mouse is playing in the cabinets of my mom's house. I'm on the kitchen floor, less than five feet away. I am moping.* Suddenly, Mouse is very excited by a new toy that she finds in the cabinet. She's rubbing it all over her hands and face. Finally, I drag my ass over to check her out. What's that in her hand?

Ant poison. Yeah.

This afternoon: We're outside. Bear is running on the lawn. Mouse is attempting to maneuver her way down the stairs from the deck to join her. My mom and I sit idly by and watch her. I think, Oh look! She's learning how to go down the stairs. How nice. And then she falls. Ass over teakettle, down the wooden stairs to do a faceplant on the concrete. The upshot?

Two goose-eggs, a skinned nose, and a black eye. Baby's first black eye. Sweet.

Later: Mouse, of course, again, my poor sweet baby, slips in the bathtub and smashes her face on the faucet. Then, when she's out, she walks into the arm of a chair. Her entire face is covered in bumps, cuts, and bruises. She looks like freaking Evander Holyfield.

Much later: I notice a weird looking... thing... on my mom's leg. You know, my mom, the lady who had a malignant melanoma removed five years ago? So I take a closer look at it, and start picking at it... Yeah. She needs to go to the doctor again.

So, universe, I fold. You win. Now go knock my house over with a tornado or something, would you?

*Possibly because I got my period this morning, and hormones are my enemy; possibly because I haven't seen Husband in a month; possibly because it's the morning after the worst day/night of my life; possibly because I haven't taken my meds in two days. I digress.