Is it supposed to be 12 o'clock or 5 o'clock?

I need a new outfit to wear that will make me feel great.  This is no easy job for many women including myself.  It's a trepidatious endeavor to try on pants and find coordinating pieces to create the correct ensemble.  I have to be in the right frame of mind to scour the racks, be hopeful in the fitting rooms, and be objective when something makes me look like Oprah on hiatus.

This would be fabulous if this were my only task.  But at this point in my life, I'm also making sure PISH doesn't clear the fitting rooms with her wails of discontent.  The persistent whines are fine at first- she's a kid- but after about 15 minutes of her dedicating her best efforts to make trying clothes on as horrifying as possible- she wins and we leave or I strangle myself with a belt.

Today, after leaving the store with only ear buds for my iPhone (let's hope they at least fit to my approval), we go home, I change her diaper and go to put her down for a nap.  I hand her her 'lovie' that she sleeps with and she dives in to hug it and gives me a fat lip with her palladium plated forehead.

Day drinking is admissible in these extenuating circumstances.  It's past noon here and I'm sure it's past 5pm somewhere in the eastern hemisphere.  

Holy crap.