Thursday, February 16, 2012

Ninja Spiders and Olivia Newton-John

Before we get started please consider this:  If you enjoy quotes from the Bible, unicorns, rainbows, happy thoughts and are offended by potty language and a bad attitude I suggest you close this blog post and move along.  You've been warned ....


I should have known this morning would blow when I woke up with a sore throat and my never ending headache with the kids actually in a great mood and not whining at 6 am.  This never happens.  Maybe I was blindsided by Annie still holding onto my old Raggedy Ann that she found burrowed somewhere in her bottomless pit of stuffed animals.  My Grandmother made me that doll and just seeing her sweet little face loving my Raggedy Ann warped me into thinking this was an excellent start to our day and things were going to go smoothly.  Warning #1


Warning #2 came while I was in the shower saving and nicked my heel like a 13 year old girl.  Holy Cow that hurts.  Now I have gone through childbirth twice and in a pain toss-up between nicking the back of your heel or knee with a razor in soapy water or unloading a 7 lb. plus sack of potatoes from your who-ha, I'd go with the tator tots every time.  Labor hurts yes but then its over and done with; a razor cut is a continual bee sting reminder that shaving sucks every time the back of your shoe, hem of your pants or hand lotion touches that itty bitty slice.  


The next warning came when rummaging through our medicine box and the only Band-Aids I could only find were those shitty character ones that never stay on.  So there I go hobbling into the kitchen with half of my Snoopy Band-Aid flowing in the breeze, annoyed at myself for always purchasing the crappy ones out of guilt.  It never fails that by the time we reach that section in Walmart I feel so guilty for hollering at my kids and chasing them down practically tying them to the grocery cart, that I cave in and buy those Band-Aids I know are crap just to put a smile back on their faces.  Also I do this with the hope those Walmart employees watching me on the security cameras will not call DSS  for fear that I will in fact do what I promised on aisle 9 by giving every single freaking thing they have away if they do not stop freaking asking me for a new freaking toy every single freaking time we step into the freaking Walmart!  Damn.  So there we are at the breakfast table with my crap Band-Aid, happy suspicious children and the darn Ident-A-Kid packet that I have pushed aside for over a week and is now due with my $16.00.  I stand there taking a moment to justify not getting the ID cards for my precious children in case they are lost or kidnapped since we have up-teen million pictures of them; Belks has an awesome sale going on.  Be a responsible loving Mother and buy your children an ID card vs a new pair of black flats.  Hmmmm.  To not risk having their teachers think that I am a horrible mother I bought the ID cards.  Oh, the pressure.

The next warning, #3 came when I decided to wear a "trendy" shirt that is supposed to look good on me (so said the 80 year old sales lady) where the bottom of it keeps inching its way above my belt.  This is joined by a enormous oversized neckline that slides down over my shoulder exposing my 1989 black camisole and therefore makes me look like an Olivia Newton-John wannabe.  WTF?  Can a girl not get a break?  Apparently not.  I look like a homeless Mexican with sail-like sleeves that show my armpits which I hate and is making me sweat and I will reek by lunchtime.  That is if the stench can penetrate 20 layers of deodorant I schlepped on to prevent that from happening.  Why in the hell I ever thought this Pedro from South of The Border look was good for me I will never know.  To top off this monstrosity the heel of my favorite shoes broke this morning and I can't buy a new pair since I spent my money on those lousy ID cards.  Needy kids and old ladies do me in every single time.

Warnings #4 - #100 went down like this:
  •  Trapped on the way to school listening to a screeching and whining argument over who had the best dance music Flo Rida (Carl) or Black Eyed Peas (Annie).  joy
  • While stuck in the school car line an evil ninja spider attacked me with no jumping out of the car option, no opening the door and flailing around option.  Just had to sit there squirming and saying lots of bad words.
  • Forced to search under my car seats where the ninja spider was hiding for car vacuum quarters.  
  • Out of 4 car vacuums I picked the one with the broken hose.  Shit
  • Used half of my WW points and 3 bucks on a biscuit with runny eggs (they have frozen eggs how is this possible?) 1 slice of bacon and zip for napkins.  Bastards.
  • Watched the gas raise 15 cents with my "low fuel" light blinking all the way to work while people raced past me like that Indy 750 Danika Fitzpatrick or whatever her name is race car broad.  If one of those idiots kill me I'm going to be pissed.
  • Assaulted by the smell of dead ass while climbing the front steps to my real estate job (what a joke) that has been here for over a week.  I would do some of my Law & Order SVU investigation tricks but I can't be bothered, I've got stuff to bitch about.
  • Desperately wanting to buy a bag of chips and 2 liter of Coke but I can't take the risk of running out of gas since I didn't stop this morning and someone stopping to help me and seeing that I am alone with the entire convenience store stuffed into my car.       
 Oh and it's raining, I have curly hair and ran out of mousse this morning.  Perfect.              

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