Poor me !

Stuffing the last piece of bread into his mouth my little fellow rushed out of the house. "Wash your mouth before you leave .." I screamed after him . "I'll wash with the water from my water bottle"he shouted back. By the time I reached the door he had disappeared.
The morning chores drove me mad . The younger boy was the first to leave. He had his tuitions at 6am and from there went to his school and came back only after four in the evening.Thankfully ,he had his lunch in the school canteen,so didn't have to pack him any .
More work had to be done after that .Prepare Oats for hubby's breakfast, idli or dosa for the big boy ,chapathi sabji to be packed for the lunch .While hubby called from the bathroom for the towel, my elder son wanted me to iron his uniform. How easy it is for these men ! They only have to call for whatever they wanted and it reached them instantly.
"Amma, my uniform!" , "Ash , my socks", "Hand kerchief", "Purse".... and I kept running from one room to the other , like a chicken with it's head cut off . They were not finished even as I ushered them to the door. I will have to run back atleast twice I know ." Get the car keys" hubs would remember that only after stepping out of the house. And the second call came from my son who had already reached downstairs " Amma , my mobile ..Please " The "please ' added as an afterthought. I had to search for the mobile, then give a missed call to his phone before I could find it amidst all the clutter on his table . As I climb up again ,I pity my poor feet .
Once inside, I sink into the nearest chair , perch my feet on the stool and then I notice my morning tea, waiting to be drunk. Too tired to reheat it or make a fresh cup of tea I sip the old cold one. Poor me!!!