This modern age with its diagnosis and syndromes and whatnot. . . It can seem ridiculous. But the first time I read about “Decision Fatigue,” I thought, Oh my goodness, write this down, I have that!

Alllll day every day I am bombarded with questions. “Can I eat this? Why not? How come she can? Can I play on the computer? How much time will this get me? What’s for lunch? How come I have to make it? Is nap over yet? What’s for dinner? What are we doing tonight? What’s the weather like tomorrow? What’s the plan for Friday? Who’s going to babysit us? Why’s your eye twitching like that? Are you crying? Mom?!”

Decision fatigue. It’s a thing.

But sometimes? Sometimes I’m the one asking the questions. Not always fun ones, either, but necessary all the same. Like why is there raw bacon on the bath mat? Is that poop on that toilet paper next ┬áto the toilet? Why is the counter all wet? Where’s Penny? How’d she get in the shower?! Why’d you let her in? How much toothpaste DID she squirt onto the floor? Is that gum in the shower? Who put it there? And why is there a toothbrush in the tub? What the heck is that on my towel? Why do I smell nail polish? Why can’t this place stay clean?!

It turns out that asking the questions is just as exhausting as answering them so either way I end up tired. There’s no question about that.

*All questions were really asked in the last two days in the bathroom. Life’s a barrel of laughs over here!