Thursday, April 2, 2009
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Code Bedhead
This morning I woke to Thing Two's sweet face standing at my bed.....
"Mom. Are you awake?"
"Mom. Are you awake?"
"Mom. Are you awake?"
Bliss. As I slowly open my eyes, dragging my mind from a sexy dream involving David Brinkley and a hot air baloon, her sweet face...
"Holy shit it's the alarm GOGOGONOW!!!" Thank God Pete is here to supervise the crisis.
I knock Thing Two and her tutu over in my mad dash downstairs, past Thing One, at whom I snarl, "YOU are in TROUBLE!"
"I didn't do anything."
"Maam? Is everything okay there?" says the futuristic box on my kitchen wall.
"Yeah, we're all right, it's just my son..."
"Please enter your bypass code, maam."
I am frantically trying to enter the bypass code while simultaneously digging in my ears with freshly cut fingernails in order to retrieve my earplugs.
Thing Two is yanking on my underwear to get my attention.
"Maam. The code."
"Mom! I want a kiss and a hug"
"Um, it's...I think it's...wait that's for..."
"Mama! I wanna KISS. You kiss me, mom."
"Maam, please state your security code."
"Mom, can I have a honey and turkey sandwhich for breakfast?"
"Mom! A kiss!"
"Maam, if you don't enter the bypass code we have to send a squad."
"Mom."
"Maam?"
"Mom!"
"Maam?"
"MOM!"
"MAAM!"
I just...wait here it...Oh ferchrissakes just send em. I could use the help.
You see, my kids do stuff.
Stuff for which there is no warning, no explanation, no adequate retaliation.
They ply the dog with goldfish crackers and then frame him for their petty crimes.
They wipe boogers on my walls.
They wear, walk on, and make tents out of my clean laundry.
They fight over who gets to say, "fubba fubba John."
They grab my skirt to break their falls.
They disable me with pretend laser guns.
They stick their grimy little mitts in my mouth when I'm not looking.
They spill stuff.
They wreck stuff.
They dump stuff.
They do stuff.
They scream.
Harrass.
Perseverate.
They use my sewing supplies for surgical tools.
They paint their own fingernails.
They set off alarms.
So by all means, please send a squad.
Every morning at 7.
And have them pick up some turkey, woudja?
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
Today's Weather Report
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Pillow Talk
Me: Isn't Daddy the best daddy in the whole wide world?
Thing One: Well, when I grow up, you're not going to need Daddy anymore.
Me: Why not?
Thing One: Because I'm going to marry you and we're going to have an open house.
Me: What about Daddy?
Thing One: Well, he can take a woman from the open house.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
The Simple Answer is Always Best
Me: Because you guys put on all your winter clothes, climbed into the pedestal sink in the bathroom, ran a humongous bubble bath, and danced a jig in it, sending a flood of soapy water, Bobby Brady-style, flowing down the stairs and through the bathroom ceiling, filling our kitchen light fixture with water and effectively leaving us without electricity in the kitchen for days.
That's why.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
What Do You Think?
Just to come over for a quick looksee?
I can't lay the PATTERNNN!!!!!
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Watch Where You Put that Thing
Guess Where I've Been
I was in rehab. There, I said it.
It's not that I'm not a fairly transparent person in most respects, it's just that, well, how do you go from "Redneck Pedicure" to "I'm an alcoholic and I was abstinent for 16 of the last 17 years and a week after I took that video I took a drink and couldn't stop.
Could. N't. Stop.
So I went to Hazelden. Wonderful place. Spectacular staff. Beautiful Minnesota setting, if I do say so myself.
I'd recommend it to any (other) mental defectives. I'm also writing about it. At the Hazelden Alumni site. Yes, I graduated. With honors. (<--That's a little alcoholic humor.) Fortunately, for me at least, I can also share it with you. Because every story contains experience, strenth, and hope. So you can bet your sweet ass I'm going to share mine. Over here. Can you see that okay?
Maybe someday the twain shall meet.
And hey, feel free to leave me comments, okay? Here, too.
Because neediness is the cornerstone of an alcoholic mind.
I just made that up.