Tragic

Just so you are aware, there is nothing more tragic, more cry worthy, than the following things:

Your sister getting the pink bowl.

Your brother sitting in "your" spot: the one you didn't want until he sat in it.

Not getting the right spoon.

Having to watch the wrong Wow Wow Wubbzy on TV.

Not getting to go anywhere in a day.

Having to swim in your backyard pool with your family.

Having to take turns.

Not having cookies in the house.

Having the wrong cookies in the house.

Getting stuck with the orange popsicle.

Being made to play outside on the giant play structure in your yard.

Not getting to be the Super Mario character you want when you play pretend with your siblings.

Not getting the avatar you want on Just Dance.

Getting the avatar you want on Just Dance, but not getting it in the color you wanted.

Not getting to be Player 1 on Just Dance.

Not getting to choose the song you want on Just Dance.

Having to clean pretty much anything, anytime, anywhere, ever.

Having to take a shower (no, the pool alone doesn't count as a giant bathtub)

Having to comb your hair.

Having to look for your shoes.

Having to go brush your teeth.

Having to go to bed.

They are putting out the school supplies at Target already. I know I'm not the only mom who stared wistfully at the new backpacks and began to count the days. In fact, all the moms I caught in that aisle had the same look of quiet desperation mixed with longing hopefulness: the look that comes with excessive exposure to bickering, crying and general summer-itis.

Is it the end of August yet?