A Royally Wretched Day

It all started this morning when I stubbed my toe on my hubby's steel-toed work boots. I didn't just bump into him and say "ouch"... no I had to really smash my toes into his boots so hard it brought tears to my eyes. I should have known then how my day was going to evolve. From there I actually thought I would be OK. HA! Since then I've knocked my noggin on the roof of the car while putting my son in his car seat, whacked my toes again (yes, the same ones), narrowly avoided a royal mess in the grocery store when the wild man decided to grab a jar of spaghetti sauce off the shelf because I neglected to keep my cart in the middle of the aisle, spilled nearly a whole jar of salsa into a piping hot pan thereby splattering the stuff on the front of my shirt, had to clean up spilled juice that my son decided to splash all over himself, his blankie and the inside of my car (my fault for thinking a 2 yr old could be trusted with a juice box), and cleaned up spilled honey mustard when I turned my back on said 2 yr old only to turn back and see him holding his honey mustard soaked chicken nugget on a fork and flinging it around his head. To top it all off, only seconds after I stuck the wild man in his crib for his nap, while making my bed I smacked my funny bone into the closet door sending hot waves of numbing aching pricklies up my arm and into the last two fingers of my hand - my little pinkie still hurts. What's so inconceivable still is it's only 1:42pm. I still have the whole rest of the day to go! Heaven help me from the sky falling 'cause that's where it seems the day is running to. Frankly, I don't dare do anything more than what I'm doing now, telling you all my woes, then sitting in front of the boob tube catching up on Saving Grace and maybe knitting. Although at this rate I'll probably discover several dropped stitches half a dozen rows back. Oh, Calgon take me away!! At least give me some chocolate!