Why it is pointless to write my list in pen

I start the day, full of coffee and hope, ready to use my manifold talents to bless the world.

But where to start?  

I could bless my children with books, thoughtful questions, and intellectual stimulation.  

I could teach them to look outside our home with kindness, and we could bake cookies for a neighbor.  

We could go to the museum.
We could schedule a play date.
We could create art with leaves and acorns.

Or, I could undo some of the damage they have done in my home. 

Like this:

A bottle brush tangled in the mini blinds.  

Really? Seriously?  How does this stuff happen? (among other unhelpful thoughts I think at a time like this.)

Again, I am reminded, that I am not really in charge of the day's activities.

I rebel.  It has been there for two days.  Nobody cares.
But I must take care of it sometime, at least before we host the Christmas party.