Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Questions of Great Importance.

Who the hell put our gas meter right next to the front door? And why do mosquitoes like to hang out around our gas meter? And who keeps leaving the effing door open so said mosquitoes can come in and take up residence like vagrant squatters? I don't believe in killing living things without a reason, but I make an exception for mosquitoes. Filthy beggars.

What possessed my husband to use gasoline to "disable" an anthill? (His karma is f*cked now.)

Why does my son the Hurricane think it's hilarious to hide on mom and dad, so we are running around checking the barn and other outbuildings and freaking out with hearts that stopped beating until we hear a little voice coming from the couch?

Why does my own stupidity still amaze me, after living with myself for 31 years? ie. Wearing jeans (and a tank top.. with no sunscreen on my pale self) on a sweltering, sun-glaring down, feelin' like a french fry kind of day. And forgetting to bring a bottle of water to soccer, forcing me to steal precious water from my children's water bottles.

I have discovered that my darling baby, Little Dude, is not actually human. He is a Baby Alligator. Have you ever tried dressing/feeding/giving a bottle to/changing the diaper of a Baby Alligator? It is as fun and easy as it sounds.

The Hurricane has a new passion in life: temporary tattoos. Grandma bought the Hurricane a bag of Bakugan temporary tattoos. I am not talking about a little strip of oh, say, 3 or 4 tattoos (what I would consider a reasonable amount). This is the Jumbo Super Mega Pack of tattoos. This bag must have at least 50 temporary tattoos. (Boy those grandparents really stick it to ya, don't they? Being all fun and spoiling kids.) My little boy was over the moon!! He ever so patiently cut them all out, one by one, put them all back into the bag, one by one, making sure his little sister was suitably warned to maintain a specified distance during the cutting and bagging process.. and then snuck into the bathroom. He walked out looking like some kind of lifer that escaped from the Treehouse TV version of a maximum security penitentiary. His arms are covered in Bakugan tattoos. He has 4 on one arm and 5 on the other. From elbows to hands. I almost don't want to make eye contact because I hear that's an insult in the Pen. I checked his toothbrush to make sure he hadn't filed it down to make a shiv. Just in case. I had no idea "misspent youth" started this young.


  1. oh, that hiding thing... my 3 yo son did that to me the other day. Hiding under the china cabinet. The girls already know mommy will go medieval on them if they don't answer when the voice notches up to yelling (I'd *really* like to get it to just "answer when I call"), but he learned that day... It's a rule: if I'm calling (and we're not playing hide-and-seek) you answer.

    There's only a few things I'm super freaky about and that's one! I don't like that heart-stopping thing.

  2. My son took a stamp and stamped every square inch of his body not covered by clothes-including right between his eyes. It took 4 days for those stamps to wash off. He looked like a tribal king ready to start warfare.

    Thanks for visiting my blog-and commenting! I adore comments!


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