Picked up the kids at noon, on the way to Costco. Rolled into the driveway nearly four hours later, and it was all I could do to stagger inside with the baby boy in my arms. The intervening time? Endless walking. I covered the entire footprint of the Superior Costco at least twice. Maybe more. By the time we left, Dmitri was melting down at top volume, and I was screaming along with him, but silently on the inside. I had to stop on the way home to get a single gallon of milk at King Soopers, which of course is at the far corner of the store from the door.
Ain't nothing on me doesn't hurt right now. Hips are the worst. Tramadol was necessary, and mercifully it started working in under an hour. I may not leave my chair until dawn.
How tired am I? I am willing to put this terrible selfie up, with no makeup, showing exactly how strained I feel.
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