As I struggled through a very tough day at work today, I eased my tension with the thought of how I would spend my evening: read my stupid freakin’ homework early, make some jalepeño poppers, and watch the damn game.

Here it is, the sixth inning, and I’m finally tuning in to see the Phillies leading it, 1-0, in the rain. What actually happened when I got home was that the CTS recommended we go out to Chili’s since we have some gift certificates. Being cranky and not wanting to cook, I agreed.

Chili’s was as slow as could be, and by the time we were finally leaving, I was exhausted and feeling a little sick to my stomach. I attributed it to being over full, until our 8-year old son vomited right on the floor as we left our booth.

That did not help us get out the door any faster.

Neither did him vomiting in the entryway. Hey, the Phillies just scored again. What’s up with Sabathia tonight? No good in the rain?

Anyway, we finally came home, my jalepeño poppers forgotten, my early homework reading opportunity gone. In mommy mode, I the proceeded to eat through the first 5 innings fussing over my kid. Now he’s in bed, apparently healthy after emptying his tummy thoroughly. Now, I’m catching some of the game rather than read my homework, which I may well regret, seeing as if I try to squeeze the reading in to my crazy day at work tomorrow, I might explode.

Though, probably not on the floor at Chili’s.