Sometimes I feel like half of my time is spent asking questions no one has the answer to. Not existential questions like Whats the purpose of life? or Why are we here?. I'm not that deep. My questions are more of the I have kids so weird stuff happens without a logical explanation nature.
Sometimes I'm a walker with tennis balls and a weird love of Murder She Wrote away from being a senile old woman who doesn't know what day it is. Last Saturday I wandered around my house for at least 30 minutes searching for a pair of socks I got out to put on Ava. I eventually gave up and got out a second pair. Two hours later I opened the fridge to put away groceries. Guess what I found? Ava's socks. Enter unanswered questions. How did they get there? Am I losing my mind? Why would I put socks in the fridge?
Other questions are more based on other people's unexplicable actions. Why is there an empty HotPocket box in the freezer? Where are the stupid ZhuZhu pets? Why did I just spend 20 minutes looking for the ZhuZhu pets if Alana's not even gonna play with them? Why do I even bother vacuuming? Who's cheeto handprint is that on the couch? Why do my ladies like cheetos so much? How'd you get poop on your sleeve? Why is Snow White wearing Ariel's clothes? How many times are we gonna watch Toy Story 3 today?
There's never a logical answer to my questions. I don't know why David left the HotPocket box in the freezer if it was empty. I don't know why they like cheetos. I find them repulsive. I really don't know why I left Ava's socks in the fridge. Maybe I should worry less about the answers to my questions and instead focus on living in the moment, cause maybe if living in the moment finds me leaving socks in the fridge then who am I to question it?