This is my little banshee in her kitty costume this morning. She calls herself “Aristokitty.”
I tried to return my daughter’s stroller to the carriage return at Target this morning.
The teenage boy in the parking lot collecting carriages looked at me with a puzzled look and asked: “um…excuse me, don’t you want to keep that?”
“Of Course! I was just testing you…” I quipped, and wandered back to my car with the stroller.
My nose is a bit runny today. I think it might be liquefied brain.
You can learn a lot from a toddler, you just have to keep an open mind. For example, my little Macgyver has taught me about the many uses for spit.
You can use spit to glue stuff to the wall. Just hock a loogie on whatever it is you want to stick to the wall, and stick it to the wall. If it slides off, simply re-apply with gentle pressure until adherence is achieved. This works particularly well with foam Cinderella puzzle pieces, but you can use it for anything, really.
You can make a watch out of just spit and an Elmo stamp. Just spit on the Elmo stamp and stamp it to your wrist.
Spit is great for expressing discontent. Simply spit on the offending party and they’re sure to back away in horror, thereby leaving you in peace without anyone having the balls to piss you off a second time.
Depending on what your goals are at the time, you can either clean or draw on a chalk board with spit and a paint brush.
Spit is good entertainment when you’re on the naughty step. Just rest your forehead between your knees and see how long it takes for your string of spit to reach the floor. Once it does, you can paint pictures on the floor using the toe of your sneaker. Your two minutes will soon be over and you can go back to sticking stuff on the wall, which will probably land you back on the naughty step, where you can then do more of your toe drawings…
Spit is also a great cleaner for shopping cart handles–use your tongue to wipe the germs away in a jiffy!
It has antibiotic qualities and can be used to heal boo-boos.
It makes an excellent doll shampoo or mirror cleaner–your choice.
I urge you to stop wasting precious cash on things like soap, glue, wristwatches, windex and paint. You have all you need already and it’s always there, you never run out, and no one can take it away from you. It’s a wonderful thing!
huck-ptooey!
Contents of my purse:
- Dried out diaper wipes
- 1 pair purple Curious George panties, size 2- 3T
- 1 pair Princess Feel n’ Learn Pull Ups
- 1 pair smudgy black sunglasses
- 1 Elmo Aqua Doodle book with magical water pen
- Expired subway coupons
- 1 small black plastic panther, tail partially chewed off
- Note pad & pink pen
- $3.39
- Movie stub from Sweeney Todd (Does it make me a bad person if I think Johnny is still yummy when he’s slashing throats?)
- Grocery list from 3 weeks ago–can be recycled as I am already out of most of the stuff on it
- Hair elastics x 4
- A tiny battery I’ve been carrying around so long I forgot what it’s for and why I’m carrying it
- Green paint samples
- Stunning lack of tampons and pads and me expecting my period any fucking second! I guess I can use the Pull Up.
- Trail Mix or as my daughter calls it “Trammix.”
- 2 small white plastic poodle barrettes that “hurt my eyebrows momma.”
- Pine needles (wtf?)
- Tropical Splash gum
- Bits of notebook frizzies
- Cat hair
- Cell phone with perpetually dead battery
- 3 small tin insect pins
- Liquefied gum–still in wrapper and now stuck to lining of my $400 Coach bag
- 3/4 of a 375 ml. bottle of Sailor Jerry Spiced Navy Rum
I believe you can tell a lot about a woman by the contents of her purse. According to my purse I’m a disorganized, incontinent alcoholic baglady with a penchant for hair accessories and gum. All I need is a handgun and I think I could be instutionalized based solely on the contents of my bag.
What does your purse/wallet say about you?
In case you didn’t notice, I’ve added a new category called Oops! I Crapped My Pants! Anything under this heading will have to do with scatological events leading to either humiliation and inconvenience in public or nasty messes found around the house. Between my daughter who still refuses to poop in the potty and two pets, I live a very scatty life indeed.
I know you’re dying to hear all about it!
I’ve never been cool, and every time I try to be it just ends in disaster.
Yesterday I decided to leave the suburbs and head to the big city for a little shopping and a visit to the museum with my daughter. I left the house feeling quite confident that we were both lookin’ fine in some new clothes from Target. “We’ll blend in nicely with the East Side crowd,” I thought to myself as I drove to the Whole Foods market for a good ass raping.
I pulled up in my filthy 8 year old Saab and parked amongst the shiny new Range Rovers and Volvo wagons. My daughter cried and blew raspberries through most of the store because A: she didn’t want to ride in the carriage, and B: I refused to pay $7.99 for 1/4 lb of organic jellybeans. A woman in the cheese department asked if we needed help. I mumbled something even I didn’t understand and ran away. One bag of groceries and $85.00 later, we moved on to the Children’s Museum for round two of “Go home hillbilly!”
Upon our arrival, the East Side mommies were assembled in the Water Room looking totally composed and effortlessly stylish. They were casually speaking French to each other and to their children. I felt tres stupide as we have enough trouble finishing a sentence without using profanity of some sort around our house. They had natty designer bags for all the mom essentials. I shoved everything in the bulging pockets of my fleece. Their children were well behaved and managed to keep the sleeves of their hand-embroidered, satin-lined sweaters dry. My daughter plunged both arms deep into the water tank and came out drenched to the shoulders. She even soaked her sneakers after tossing a sopping bean bag into the tank and splashing everyone including herself.
Including the mommies.
I have to say that the real coupe de grace came when she shat her panties right there at the fish tanks. This promptly ended the day and we went limping back to the suburbs in our old car and our beat Target outfits, literally soaking wet and smelling of shit.
I’m not even going to mention how she opened the door to the ladies room just as I was pulling my pants back up, exposing me, my fat ass, and my Target underpants to everyone. I’ll spare you the details on that one…
Instead of working yesterday, Lynne and I decided to come up with a list of presidential candidates that we feel are more qualified than the ones who are currently running.
Below is a collaborative list:
- Toonces the Driving Cat
- Charo
- Orville Reddenbacher
- William Shatner
- 1/2 bottle of cough syrup
- Carrot Top
- Vanilla Ice
- Jessica Simpson
- butter
- Diego
- Any of the Care Bears
- Kathy Griffin
- Big Bird
- Supernanny
- lint
I really think butter might have a chance. Who doesn’t love butter?
Any other suggestions?
I’m starting a weekly ritual: Priceless Thursdays
Time will tell if I can actually pull it off, but here’s the first one.
New tires for car: $500
New rear windshield wiper: $10
Not smashing car through neighbor’s bushes when car careens backward out of snowbank: Priceless.
- 6:15 am: Wake up to realize we overslept and it’s 5 degrees outside.
- 7:00 am: Experience pain like no other doing Yogalates with sadistic bitch Kristin McGee and her 4 lemmings.
- 7:45 am: Discover that water pipes in kitchen have frozen solid. No. Water.
- 8:00 am: Run out of warmish water in shower. Cold water rinse only.
- 8:15 am: Get dressed in 53 degree bedroom.
- 8:30 am: Baby discovers basket of clean laundry and proceeds with alternating hands to pitch clothes over her shoulders out of basket onto floor.
- 8:30 am: In an attempt to get basket away from baby, accidentally smash baby in lip with basket.
- 8:31 am: Baby screaming and bleeding profusely about the lip/gums.
- 8:32 am: Where the fuck is the baby Tylenol?
- 8:35 am: Shockingly late for work (due in by 9:00) and still have to bring baby to Papa’s house.
- 8:37 am: Attempt to pour Vanilla Chai tea into fabulous new pink travel mug. Miss fabulous new pink travel mug and instead sustain 3rd degree burns on hand and wrist area.
- 8:40 am: Found the jacket. Found the hat. Where the fuck is the other purple mitten?
- 8:45 am: Toy of the day for Papa’s house: Disney Princess teapot full of pony beads and a small plastic fairy.
- 8:45 & 1/2: Tea pot full of pony beads dropped. Pony beads alloverthefuckingplace.
- 8:50 am: In car. Cannot see out of rear window. Run into ice bank at end of driveway. Car. Not. Moving.
- 8:51 am: Pedal to the metal and burn rubber!!! Neighbors point and laugh.
- 8:52 am: “Momma? What’s that smell?” “It’s the smell of rubber burning, honey.” “Momma, you need to clean the car on the inside. It’s stinky.”
- 8:57 am: Baby safely delivered, sans breakfast, to Papa’s house.
- 8:58 am: God damned Vanilla Chai flipped over and spilled into console of car.
- 9:10 am: Safely arrived at work. No apparent damage to car from ice bank.
- 9:20 am: Burn tongue on raging hot remnants of God damned Vanilla Chai.
- 9:22 am: The smell of burned rubber still in my hair. Email husband and ask him to pick up a bottle of wine for me. I’ve just got a feeling I’m gonna need it tonight…
Total Weight Watcher points allowed in one day: 18
Total Weight Watcher points consumed before 12:00 pm: 16.5
Total Weight Watcher points consumed by the time of this post: 32.5
Off to a fine start…
