I think that it's entirely possible that Husband and I have succumbed to some sort of infectious...something. I blame Oldest, Middle, and Youngest. Two teens and a pre-teen.
For the most part, The Three are easy-going, polite, and even-keeled. In fact, they are a lot of fun. But they are also victims. They have been unable to completely escape the grasp of hormones and random moodiness and the occasional bout of surly almost-but-not-quite-over-the-line bad attitude. Thankfully it's not frequent or even even common.
But I'm afraid it might be catching.
I came home to find Husband in a funk. He couldn't quite put his finger on why, but he was definitely not himself. He was quiet and almost withdrawn. He couldn't make a decision and wasn't really interested in being cajoled out of whatever state he was in.
And now I find myself sitting here, sighing. Not quiet, relaxed sighing. Nope; the over the top, I-can't-believe-I-have-so-much-to-do, why-me kind of sighs. You know the one. Especially if you have a teenaged daughter.