Believe in the Flowers.

The remnants of a late-night snack are strewn about - water in a squeeze bottle for The Kid, Simply Grapefruit (straight from the container) for me, Mini Nilla Wafers for us both (or, as someone would say, "Cookie! Cookie!"). Now he's passed out on the floor directly to my left, in need of a second diaper within the last hour. I'm exhausted, although I'm just working off of my second wind, but have a certain distaste for sleep at the moment, knowing that at some point soon we're going to be deluged with bad weather. I'm hardly a fan of thunderstorms, and am even less so when there's the possibility of them being accompanied by anything more than rain. Husband is off at game night, hopefully having a good time, although I know I was none-too-subtle about my want for him to stay home tonight. I felt guilty about it, of course, and still do to an extent, although I'm a bit less so since tonight has been relatively easy (compared to other weekends). But today has been a somewhat difficult day physically, and I feel somewhat ill, am exhausted, and I generally don't feel all that great. The added knowledge of an impending thunderstorm (or group of thunderstorms) is overwhelming - top it off with the fact that there's a wasp stuck in our bedroom window and I think I've had about all I can take for one day.