Lord, deliver me...
...from younger children who have been whining in their beds for me for the past hour and a half, even after MULTIPLE trips in to hug, hold, sing, give butterfly kisses and nose rubs - and yes, even to curl up one's ginormous adult body into that of a cramped little toddler bed.
...from older children going through medication flux, or near-to-birthday emotional disintegration, or a massive testing-of-boundaries period, or something else unspecified, who are trying mightily to engage in one singularly awful temper tantrum over something minor every single night.
...from this diet, under the self-imposed yoke of which I missed the Super Bowl party yesterday. Feh.
...from the drumbeat of the ever-growing pile of shit-to-do awaiting me at work every morning.
...from the Girl Scout Cookies.
...from the parents of other people's children (present company excepted, natch.)
...from the Bad Mother pangs felt when one more field trip is missed, and another after-school function is missed.
...seemingly endless inner monologues about sliding into middle age.
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Whew! That was cheery! Thanks for catching my vomit! Sweet of you to hold my hair back.
When OG is not instilling fantasies of violent wrath in my head, she is a cool and funny chick. Cool enough to get this sweet ride for her birthday:
This bike is so rad! And it cost $300! Because after traveling to THREE bike shops and stalking out of the first two, thinking "There's no way a kids' bike costs 300 fucking dollars," I realized that I was wrong, Yes, they do, and THEY ALL DO. (Unless you want to go to Target, which is actually what I did first. The axle broke on that one after two months of riding.)
Seriously, MY bike cost like $300. (Yes, honey, I know that was 14 years ago. You love to make me feel sexy, don't you?)
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I want to do the "Me/Not Me" meme started by Badger, continued by Karla...but it looks like it takes too much work. Maybe I'll just do it bit by bit.
Me:
Me:
Not me:
Way Not Me:
So Freaking Not Me:
What in the hell is wrong with people, anyway?
1 comment:
I think the fact that we both hate Dr. Pepper is somehow connected to how perfect we are for each other. Man, what is point of having "23 flavors" if "ass" dominates over the other 22?
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