The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Mommy’s Bad Day


My alarm clock went off at 5 AM and I called it an asshole and Tiny Tot wouldn’t wake up to get dressed so I dressed him with his eyes fused shut and then the dog peed all over the floor when I went to let him outside before work and I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, Mommy’s bad day.

Checking my Facebook status at work I saw that my twin got promoted to manager and my younger sister got an A on a paper she wrote over Pope Alexander VI and Son Son had a party with cupcakes and all I got was a broken refrigerator.

I think I’ll move to a deserted island.

At work my coworker’s case canceled so she got to go home early. Three coworkers got relieved for breaks four times during my six hour case. I didn’t get relieved. I didn’t even get lunch. I thought to myself if I didn’t eat something in the next hour, I was going to be sick. No one even cared.

I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, Mommy’s bad day.

On Facebook another mom site’s post about metal killing ants was liked better than my crazy, awesome Christmas card picture.

At the gym I walked too slow. At the store I forgot to buy toilet paper. Who needs toilet paper?

I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, Mommy’s bad day.

I could tell because Tiny Tot rammed into my bad knee at the grocery store with his cart when I told him to freeze. Then a soccer mom cut me off in the parking lot as I was trying to limp myself, my child, and my groceries to the car.

I hope you get a flat tire, I hollered after the soccer mom. I hope the next time you go to buy Starbucks, the barista forgets the whipped cream and you drop your coffee on the ground and never get to travel to a deserted island.

A friend posted a home cooked picture of a pot roast teeming with carrots and potatoes. My mom said she was busy making spaghetti for dinner. I had a six hour case and didn’t get to eat all day, and I’ll be making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Wait, guess who forgot jelly at the store, too?

It was a terrible, horrible, no good, Mommy’s bad day.

That’s what it was, because I took the puppies to the vet and the doctor found a scratch in Rexaur’s eye, and the exam cost over $400. Here are some eyedrops to give him twice a day, he said.

I can’t give eyedrops on a deserted island, I said.

Putting clean sheets on the bed I tripped over Optimus Prime and my knee almost collapsed and when I jutted my arm out to save myself I slammed into a picture and almost ruined the frame and pulled a muscle in my neck and glared at the offending toy and while I was mentally cursing Optimus Prime for hiding beside the bed where I didn’t see him I remembered I still had to go to physical therapy.

I am having a terrible, horrible, no good, Mommy’s bad day, I told myself. Not even the puppies cared.

So then I picked up Tiny Tot and asked what he wanted for dinner. Tiny first said he wanted pizza with ice cream. Tiny then said he wanted a taco boat with milk. I said I wanted chicken and spinach. Then I remembered the chicken was frozen and the spinach expired. I wouldn’t allow pizza, and I didn’t have the energy for taco boats, so we decided on peanut butter sandwiches, because there is no jelly.

When we took baths I told Tiny he wasn’t allowed to splash in the bathtub, but he forgot. I also told him he could only pump soap three times, and then he waited until I turned my back to pump twelve. I said not to bring toys that make noise into the bathtub, but he brought in the talking Batmobile. I told him bath time was officially over.

It was a terrible, horrible, no good, Mommy’s bad day.

Tiny didn’t fall asleep on time and I hate when he refuses to sleep.

Nothing was on TV after he fell asleep and I hate not watching a show at night.

My day was too long, I couldn’t find the keys to let the puppies outside, my cell phone went missing, and I had to put on a pair of holey socks. I hate when I have to wear the holey socks.

When I went to bed my pillow was flat and the blanket fought my feet and the fan was too noisy.

The puppies kept whining when all I wanted to do was sleep.

It has been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

Unfortunately some days are just like that.

Even on deserted islands.



***This story is a spoofy, silly remake of Judith Viorst’s “Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.” This is Tiny’s and my favorite book to read at night, and after the last few weeks, I knew it had to be written! Also, the run on sentences and missing commas are purposeful, due to the layout of the original story.***

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