Claire and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Many of you may remember the children’s story, Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.

If not, watch the basics here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ezbssw11724

Well, Alexander, buddy, you’ve got nothing on me.

First of all, kid, you’re a boy, so gum in your hair is not really a big deal, just get a crew cut. Besides, it’s your fault for sleeping with it in your mouth. Also, at least you have friends to desert you. And, in all seriousness, you’re complaining about a lunch that was packed for you… likely by your mom. Well, I’m the mom in this situation, so don’t you even start with me. Lima beans for supper beats what we had for supper this night…

Moving on from your day, Alex, my day started out pretty well. I didn’t have morning sickness, and I decided to cook breakfast. I made the most amazing muffins and homemade donuts. I helped my daughter clean her room and wash the paint off her floor. I fixed the car seat because the straps were all twisted (seriously, how does that even happen??) I took a shower in the dark because the husband was working on the electrical and had to shut off the circuit breaker, but that’s okay, it was an excuse to not have to shave my legs.

I then attempted to pack up the kids in the car to go to a birthday party. Kid number one and the bags are first. I then brought the baby in the car, only to realize that the carseat was inside the house. So, I buckled her up like a big girl and headed back inside (don’t forget it’s like -20 in northern Maine) to get the car seat. I brought it out to put it in the car, only to realize that there’s a baby buckled in the way. I decide to single handedly move the baby aside with one hand as my other hand places the car seat strategically into place… except I’m clumsy and I caused the baby to hit her head on her sister’s booster seat.

So, I have a crying baby and the car seat landed in the snow. I finally wrestled the wet seat into the car, lifted the baby into the seat, and as I lift her to buckle her I realized that the stupid strap has magically twisted from the house to the car. Are you kidding me? At this point, I let out some words that made my six year old’s eyes bulge out a bit. I said sorry, buckled up the (still) crying baby, and got in the car and I’m now frozen because I got snow in my flats. Okay, okay, I know this is my fault because I’m wearing flats in the winter, but I was cold, so I’m complaining.

The birthday party went well, both kids had fun, and child number 1 told people that I said bad words in front of her. We all ate tons of sugar then I brought my little tattle tale to my mother’s for a sleepover, which by now, I’m sure, she’s told her about my potty mouth. All I can think is, “Yes, a nice relaxing evening without my chatter box child…”

When I got home, I started cooking supper. At this point, since my breakfast was pretty phenomenal, I’m feeling kind of cocky in the kitchen. I know, I know, mistake number one.

Through this pregnancy for some strange reason, I have been craving cheeseburgers, so I set out to make oven baked burgers with tater tots. I realized that I wanted potato skins not tater tots, so I decided to try a new recipe I saw on Pinterest.

I didn’t have the stuff, though. So, I told the husband that I had to go to the store, took the burgers and potatoes out of the oven, and placed them on a potholder on the stove top. Hint- this is an important detail.

I headed to the store in the frigid temperatures to seek out bacon pieces, cheddar cheese, and sour cream, I also took a few minutes to covet my favorite wine which was on sale, then purchased the items and headed home. This was about the time that my okay day turned to terrible.

I walked in, put the potatoes and the burgers back in the oven. I cut up my onions, got all of my stuff ready, and even started doing dishes (this was uncalled for, I blame the dishes for what happens next). I then decided to check the potatoes so I opened the oven to a blast of smoke and grab the potatoes. At this point, I was thinking that the steak sauce I so craftily poured on my burgers was causing the smoke, so I turned the oven down. It’s too late- the detectors go off, in perfect succession.

The baby, sitting in her highchair, thought this was a hoot. She started dancing, while I started crying. The hubs comes downstairs to ask, “What’s going on?” and I reply, “The stupid sauce on the burgers is burning off in the oven.”

I then reopened the oven to put the potatoes back in and was met with a stronger billow of smoke. This is not normal. I decided (as the house fills up with smoke and the detectors go off again) to abort supper.

I pull out the burgers to find the source of the problem- which is not the steak sauce mind you.

A pot holder (the one that was under the pan) was cooking in my oven. It all started to make sense! As I pulled the pot holder out of the oven, with my pot holder mitten, it caught into flames. I threw it in the sink and ran it under water.

My poor baby was still sitting in her high chair with her arms flailing trying to get the smoke away. So, I took her out, tried to bring her in another room, when her high chair top plummeted to the ground, spraying her pouch and fruits everywhere. I mean everywhere. More language, luckily my tattler was at Memere’s.

Now, I want to remind you (for the third time)  that it was freaking cold outside. My previous guess of -20 was a bit exaggerated, but it was probably -5, so trying to air out a house filled with smoke was a very difficult task. It took a little over an hour of opening windows, turning on the fan, closing windows because it’s freezing, over and over again and then, and only then, did I finally finish supper- which I ate alone.

I decided to go check on the hubs in the living room to see if he was over his smoke inhalation and wanted to come join me for supper. This was mistake number two, I should have let him starve, because I left my yummy, juicy burger on the counter, only to hear a thump similar to an animal jumping off of something. (On a side note, my cat is a real jerk. I don’t think I’ve blogged about him before, but he will appear soon.) Swiper, the evil kitty, decided to top off my awesomely horrible day by knocking my food off the counter for he and the dog to enjoy. At this point, I’m done. As done as the pot holder.

So you see, Alexander, your lesson was as simple as spitting out your gum, packing your own lunch and cooking your own damn supper (just learn from me, pot holders don’t make a great meal). My day, Xander, if I can call you that, was a bit more sophisticated.

Okay, maybe not, my mistakes were pretty stupid, too. But, on the bright side, our smoke detectors work and the pot holder only caught flames after I took it out of the oven.

Smile at someone having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. It won’t help, but it will likely annoy them, so it’s worth it.

Claire Pelletier

About Claire Pelletier

I'm 30. Boy am I 30. I have three children: Shelby (almost 8), Harper (3), and Aidan (1). I work full time as an English teacher, full time as a mom, part time as a wife, part time as a cook at a Diner (this is actually a paid position), and a per diem house cleaner. Basically, I do it all. Oh and I like to write (revert back to my full time teaching position). This life is crazy, people are even crazier, and online blogging has given me a voice. Some may think it's a loud and obnoxious voice, but I kind of like it. I do my best to write about things that interest people, mainly about myself. Sometimes I verge into the political land, but that place scares me, so I mostly write about every day things that make me laugh, cry, or scream. Thanks for reading!