I am plum worn out and ragged at the edges.
Allergies have taken my voice captive, leaving me with nothing.
Well, I shouldn't say nothing. I can squeak.
My children call all through the house for me, but I can't answer.
Heh, heh, heh.
This feature is actually quite nice.
Parenting with squeaky whispers just isn't working.
I've got WAY to much to say during the day with these four goofballs around.
"Tomorrow. Spell the word tomorrow."
"Yay Gabby! You made an electromagnet!"
"Just one more page to go, Josie!"
"How did you do on your Algebra test, Hanna?"
"Whoa, Jacob! Stir slowly!"
"Yes Josie, you and your friends may have a tea party."
"Whose day is it to take Toby for a walk?"
"Hanna, could you get a picture of this for me?"
"Do NOT go in there!"
"Will you two please be careful up there?"
"Hanna, do NOT even think about it!"
"On your mark. Get set. GO!"
No wonder I'm tired.
You guys wear me out.
Buy ya' know what?
I wouldn't change a thing.
Except, I would like my voice back please.
Because there's one more thing I want to say.
"I love you,