Four Days to Tear This Motha Apart

It was an unforgettable homecoming. Our family had been rotating into and out of separate cities for four days. The first two days Shelby had gone to San Jose with her grandparents. The last two days I had spent away in Los Angeles arriving home at dusk perfectly exhausted. Having Shelby to myself for a few minutes, before John and Ana appeared home from work, I could tell I was dealing with the evil twin. She was droopy, teary, and resembled no part of herself. She was a perfect toddler disaster. I made my best effort to give her my undivided attention in an attempt to revive her. I stared into her eyes, searching for the old Shelby I knew and loved. I kept my eyes off the piles of laundry and random toy things scattered around the living room. Focus, mommy, focus. Where is my sweet little girl? And just as soon as the truck pulled into our driveway, she reared back her head and spout cruel, angry comments about her little sister. Who is this girl?
Ana came in smiling and cooing, completely unaware of the giant black cloud recently cast upon her. I took a second to greet my exhausted single parent hubby. Ana got as far as clambering up onto the sofa when all of a sudden, "BLauugghhh!!" She puked all over the living room. And I don't need to tell you what her older sister had to say about all of this.
Welcome home, mommy. You are officially back on full-time duty. Let the crying begin.

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