Party like a rock-star

So I'm sitting here wondering what I should blog about. Can't think of a single funny thing right now. (Of course, because I actually have time to write stuff down right now.) I moseyed over to MckMama's blog and randomly selected blogs from her Mr. Linky to read. I found one right here and thought to myself, "Self, I should post a small blurb and link to this blog just in case anyone out there in Internet-land can help." So, if you are a web designer who has some spare time to donate and/or a karmic debt to fill, please click on over and read this post.

My mother-in-law and my step-father-in-law are visiting. Can you believe I enjoy the company of my in-laws? How weird is that? They are staying in the luxurious accomodations of our travel trailer. With no water hook up. We are nothing if not high-class around here.

Today, my in-laws packed up my two older kids and took off for the day. I had a whole unscheduled day of just me and Little Dude. What did I do with my day, you ask? Did I have a ridiculously long bath? Or spend a few (hours) minutes waxing and/or plucking facial hair? Or maybe did I remove the old, chipped polish off my toenails and put pretty, new polish on? Nope. I.. (cue suspenseful music) cleaned my fridge. (Cue fanfare). Ugh. Gross. If there ever was a show called, "Disgusting, Filthy Fridges of the Middle-Middle Class" I would be featured. The world would tsk-tsk my obvious lack of cleaning ability. Why is it that salad dressing never gets thrown out, even after it expires? Is salad dressing that good at disguising itself; the colorful bottles somehow blend right in to the white background of the fridge door? For two years? For shame! I console myself with the idea that because the expiry date was 10 May 08 (or whatever month it was), I must have thought that the year was 2010. Yes, that must be it. I cannot possibly be that lazy or that blind. Thank goodness the baby started fussing when I was almost done; thus saving me from opening the freezer and watching frozen veggies hurling themselves to the floor like lemmings, in order to escape being eaten by the ever-expanding frost.

I have decided that the Pixies What Control Time are f*cking with me. Somehow, everyday, they speed up time between 3:00 and 4:30pm in order to truly mess up my schedule. Where does that hour and a half go? 3:00 rolls around and I'm in good shape, got most of my stuff done, house is clean (relatively... compared to the fridge, it's clean), lots of time before kids need to be picked up, or I need to make supper, or we have to go to soccer. Then, WHAM! it's 4:30, dinner isn't even started, kids are tearing up my nice clean house so that when Daddy gets home at 5, the house is a write-off and we're eating lame supper again because I ran out of time to make a good supper. Stupid Pixies.