When is life like a sitcom?

For me, it's usually on my birthday. I'm 33 today and this morning was the most comedic, awful morning I'd had in the long time. Definitely one of those days I feel like I'm on reality TV or stuck in a horrid episode of Everyone Loves Raymond. I do not like Raymond, much less love him. In fact, I loathe him. Just so you know.

Anyway, this morning started off okay. Showering to the tune of little hands banging on the door until the door is flung open mid-shower and I find myself whapped in butt with a spatula by a toddler who thinks he's a pirate ship. Yes, a pirate ship. They're bigger than pirates, so they must be better. Anyway, after he's bellowed "En garde!" and "Touche" and "Take that!" I manage to get him out of the bathroom, though I do have to let him yell "Swoggle me eyes!" a couple of times to seal the deal. Thank you, Peter Pan.

Fast forward a half hour and everyone is screaming - my toddler most certainly, my husband, who has been pitting himself against our toddler and losing, and finally me. I join the fray to be heard above the ruckus, declare a time out for everyone and, when no one listens to me, I kick some covers in frustration that had been dragged into the hallway, frightening my toddler. He starts crying and I finish by bursting into tears. Ta-dah!

So I drop Ragsy at daycare, get in on my way to work, and, as I'm smirking once more at the Wildlife Corridor sign, a deer runs across the road, this time in front of me. Well, at least it wasn't through the backyard like Sunday.

At last at work, I fall on my ass and wear most of my coffee. I sit and laugh hysterically for a moment, get eyeballed warily by a co-worker who helped me pick up all my crap, then go up to my desk where I quietly giggle to myself for a while.

Did I mention that the older I get, the less I like my birthday? It's not because I'm getting older, it's because I've got way too much to do to sit around thinking how great it is that I just turned a year older because every freaking time I do that, I wind up getting hit in the ass with a spatula or covered in my food or drink. Jeez. I'm going to grumble in a corner.

And while you're at it, get the hell of my lawn!