I am sick with a sore throat and a fever, after a long weekend of taking to the streets with millions of other women and mothers to give Donald Trump the "Knock it off or I will take your ass outside for a talk so damn fast" mom look on a global level.
And I had a delirious dream that I walked into the White House and it looked like a college party had just taken place. I followed the detritus to the Oval Office where I found our president sitting at his desk with an empty chip bag, the floor covered in potato chip crumbs that had been spilled and crushed into the carpet.
"This is the EXACT kind of thing I knew was going to happen! You have been here for ONE day -- ONE DAY -- and this place is trashed. How hard is it not to spill the chips? Or to clean them up when you do? Who do you think is going to get all of this out of the carpet now? Huh? You? Not you. You know it won't be you. You live like a freaking pig and who has to deal with it? The rest of us. It's disgusting and you should be ashamed, you're like a spoiled child who cares about no one but himself."
I don't remember his reaction to this scolding, just my strained mom voice and utter disgust about the trail of chips. I knew they wouldn't vacuum up easily and I wasn't cleaning up his mess.
I told Big Kid about it on the drive to school. "That's funny and something the both of you would do -- him spilling chips everywhere, and you yelling at him for it. He has really messed up making moms mad, that's a group you don't want to fight. They don't forget and talking back will just make it worse."
Yep. Clean up the crumbs, Trump, or we won't let you play with Putin anymore.