A week. Five mornings. Or maybe just four.

I have Friday off, so the morning doesn't really count, since I won't be up scrambling to get the show on the road. The rest of the week though, well, looking forward to what Wednesday and Thursday have to offer. Why? Let's review the two mornings I've already dealt with:

Monday:
Couldn't sleep, so I got up and made cinnamon buns for breakfast (I know, not the most healthy choice but there you have it, I made them kids ate them), got supper in the slow cooker and made a pie. The pie was no last minute choice. National pie day being on Sunday (although many prefer the more logical date of March 13th), two of us decided on Friday of last week to bring pie to work on Monday. Having promised to bring pie, a pie had to be made.

I had originally planned on apple, but ended up making Lemon Chess Pie, as I had lemons and I wanted to try something new. It was quite simple to put together and looked really lovely.

Now, the thing is, Chess pie is in the custard family of pies so it requires a setting time. I figured that time would be at work. When we left, I mentioned that I'd need help with the trunk (the spring loaded thingy still being hors de combat). By the time I got outside The Girl was already in the car. I decided...despite the fact that I KNEW one handed pie storing would not work...to let her stay there and do it myself. Or at least try to. Because we all know it didn't work, right?

It didn't. I was propping the trunk open with one hand and leaning over to put the pie in the large delivery thing I keep back there when it started to slide. The pie, that is. And the hot custard started to slurp out. Not willing to see the whole thing ruined, I saved the pie. By letting go of the trunk and grabbing the other side of the container with my hand. Leaving, of course, no hand holding the trunk open. So it slammed shut. On my head. A head that was already combatting a headache (the headache was the reason for the not being able to sleep, too).

Saved the pie for the most part (although it looked terrible in the end it didn't loose enough filling to make it unusable), giant whack on the head. So there was Monday morning, done.

Flash forward to today. No special baking in the morning. 'Cept pancakes. Something about this cold weather has me baking up a storm. Anyway - pretty normal morning. Until the toilet broke. Not a difficult problem, and not one I couldn't fix, but one that had to be fixed. And before leaving for work which meant, naturally, that it broke just before we left. And messing about inside with the workings meant hands covered with black icky stuff. Washed my hands three times and there are still black smudges on them and my fingernails are hideous.

So, two days down and two to go.

I much preferred last week when I had a morning when I found out the my father, sister and brother-in-law have collectively conspired to fly The Girl and myself out there for a break. The Boy opted to stay home on his own. No surprise there! Given a choice between a full house including babies, missing work at a job he just started and classes from his second semester of university and a quiet house with no extrovert sister and mother, I think any 18 year old guy would choose the same. Now all I need to do is cling to sanity for a few weeks.