It’s been a heck of a long and hot day. Woke up earlier than I wanted, did a load of laundry, fed Zander and the dogs and took off to the kiddie play group. Left the play group early because my kiddie was lying on the floor, face down, falling asleep. Silly me. I thought that meant he was sleepy. Nope.

So we get home and I do a little cleaning, organize lunch and head out into the blazing sun and heat to play for a while – hoping to tire out someone other than myself.

Meanwhile, I’ve got two large dogs that are anxious for a walk. But they’re black and it’s 33 degrees Celsius (much higher with humidity), not to mention that one of them is injured. So the bloody dogs – don’t get me wrong, I love them – are following me EVERYWHERE. Under foot and getting in my way. Panting and driving me nuts.

Zander refuses to sleep. What to do, what to do? It’s so bloody hot. We pack up and go watch an excavator. Sitting under a tree, sipping cool drinks and munching on crackers. Nice, but hot. And DUSTY.

Get home. Make supper, take out the garbage and recycling, vacuum (is it just me or is this the worst year for dog shedding ever?) bring the laundry in off the line, bath kiddo and put him to bed. The whole time, sweating and being followed step-by-step by two large panting dogs.

So I give the dogs a little love and their daily apple then tell them to get lost.

Finally get a relaxing minute to myself and check my email. I see I’ve got a nasty message from a freecycler who’s angry at me because I told her I had offered my used baby clothes hangers to someone else after she failed to show up for 3 days. Like not getting 20 cheap plastic hangers was the end of her world and that I was some sort of “Hanger-Nazi” for not keeping them on my porch forever for her.

It’s been a long, hot day. I’m tired. I’m cranky. Would thinking about slapping her make me a bad person?