Owen’s baseball stuff is in Tom’s truck BECAUSE OF COURSE IT IS.
I don’t have enough time to go get his stuff and make it back to pick him up from strength training and then get to baseball camp.
Owen doesn’t want to go to baseball camp anyway because his arm hurts.
Oh, and he doesn’t want to go to baseball camp at all anymore because “he knows everything already” — forget that we spent $200 on it.
Tom isn’t answering his texts.
I checked Owen’s summer health class scores and they are not where they should be.
The housekeepers come tomorrow, and I just want to burn the house down.
And the new swipe keyboard I’m testing is a disaster.