I'm sitting here holding a bouncing baby at 8:30am who has just hurled vomit all the way down my back and onto my pajama bottoms. Thankfully I've not chosen to get ready for work yet.
I keep glancing at husband to see what is taking so long with his breakfast. It seems the polite thing to hold baby while he finishes but it keeps getting later and later. It seems husband is caught up cleaning the espresso percolator and there is a whole lot of poking and prodding at the espresso screen and exclaiming that we have not cleaned it properly in years. He is not making progress on breakfast.
Time to try baby out on the swing. I need to get ready for work.
More later on our fun trip home to grandmas.
edited to add:
and as I leave for work, husband exclaims, "it's 9:30, aren't you late for work?"