Messiness is next to Crankiness

It's official.

My mood is directly linked to the cleanliness of my home.

I am usually adept at stopping all screams somewhere at the bottom of my neck.
I try not to let them out.
Because they are ugly.

But today three of escaped, the little buggers!
Granted, the Cowgirl was home sick with an ear infection that hurt her until precisely 8:47 this morning, when a miraculous healing left her free to rile up her little sister all. day. long.
I could justify that I was too tired to climb two staircases and tell my children in gentle tones to stop cannibalizing each other, but I don't think that's a good excuse.

The truth is that everything in my cupboards has a new home on my counters, my counters are showered in drywall dust and my appliances are pulled out.

I am hoping that my better nature asserts itself when I can put my life back in order.
See- I don't clean to have my home look pretty.
It is a survival mechanism.
You don't want to see ugly house Tapper.
She's a pill. She's a cranky gammer. She is about to go to sleep and dream about running through a field of little yellow flowers.
Because a field is never messy.
A field has no laundry.
Yep, moms- let's all head for the fields.