"What's new?" She asks.
I scan my living landscape.
The kitchen washcloth smells like sour milk, no matter how often I change it for a new one. I swept a cubic foot of dog hair off the floor this morning, on three separate occasions. Eliza threw an in-public tantrum that made my ears burn and skin crawl. I can't find a deodorant I like so I've been going without. I'm fairly sure that fairly soon Ruthie is going to choke on some scrap of whatever while I'm not looking. Claire spilled juice on the table today and instead of helping wipe up or saying sorry or even oops she spoke sharply to Eliza for gasping at the incident. I did manage to clean the bathroom yesterday. I'm not sure what to make for dinner. We finally got a laundry line in the yard and the sky split open on my first load.
"Nothing," I reply. "It's been raining all day."
