Morning Queefs!
You know what made Crissy call her mom on Saturday morning, sobbing into the phone and repeatedly saying “serenity now! serenity now!” to the point where she decided to cancel her busy plans masturbating to Barry Manilow to come over and help Crissy so she didn’t have a total mental breakdown?
Taco’s room.
And that’s because pregnant ladies get this thing called nesting and it’s when you have this urge to get ready for the baby by gathering all the shit you need and getting all the little diapers and onesies and crap ready to roll.
By her fifth month of pregnancy she had Girlfriend’s room all ready already and it did not suprise her midwife at all who said “you’re such the type” with a big eye roll as if preparedness is a bad thing.
Sheesh.
And it’s a damn good thing Crissy was so ready because Girlfriend came two weeks early.
See? Crissy does things ahead of schedule.
And it’s not like that this time and Crissy has been waking up with nightmares of Taco sleeping in the laundry basket because right now the room looks like this:
Okay. That was last weekend but it looks the same except that Mister has taken the carpet out.
Crissy can’t very well get things ready now can she?
This is particularly difficult for Crissy because she always has a plan, or a list, or an itinerary. If Crissy is not early, then she’s late, which is actually on time. Crissy never lets her car get below 1/4 tank and if it does, Crissy will wake up at 3 am to worry about when and where she’s going to get gas for the car before she and Girlfriend are stranded on the road and will have to pee in the woods and hitchhike to the nearest gas station and probably they’ll be abducted by a homicidal trucker rapist who’s too hopped up on crank and truck sodas to just go and abuse some hooker at a rest area like all normal truck drivers. If there is an assignment or a deadline, Crissy gets to work immediately and never, never waits until the last minute to do things.
Never.
Some people might call this anal but Crissy calls it smart because who the hell likes to be in a panic to get stuff done at the last possible second?
Crissy will tell you who.
It’s Mister.
He waits until the last second all the time and that drives Crissy absofuckinglutelyoutofhermind.
And get this– sometimes the last second passes and he’s still done nothing!!!!
This is unbelievable to Crissy.
And you should see us when we have to go somewhere. We would always be late if it weren’t for Crissy standing at the door with her coat on, jumping up and down and yelling “COME THE FUCK ON!!!”
And this tragic character flaw isn’t even really his fault because his whole family does it.
He doesn’t really know any better. It’s like the same way that a child raised by wolves doesn’t know better than to take a dump in the middle of the living room.
Thank Jesus Crissy broke Mister of that habit!
If you tell his mother that “dinner is at 6:00,” that’s the time when she starts thinking about getting ready to make whatever it is she was supposed to bring. And that makes inter-family gatherings rawther interesting indeed as Crissy comes from a long line of preparers and her family is there 15 minutes early at least and Mister’s family waltzes in an hour later after Crissy’s family has been pacing around like hungry tigers.
Do you see what Crissy is forced to put up with?
Crissy is late for her workout now because of all the complaining she had to do this morning and in this particular instance “late” does not mean “on time” but really, really fucking late which means she won’t be in the shower by 8:00 to be on the road to drop Girlfriend off at school and possibly flip off some pajamaed cunt in an Escalade by 8:50 and arrive at work by 9:00.
As you can plainly see, Crissy’s suffering is unimaginable and her stress level is through the roof and if those little pussy whiners in the Sudan or Darfur or the Special Olympians or whatever think they have it rough, they need to come and live with Crissy for a while.
Seriously.
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Maybe taco will pop out and be a genius interior designer and do it all his/her self?
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gah! pregnancy hormones!
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My BFF Kim takes nesting to the extreme. With her first pregnancy, they redid such a significant portion of their home that they had to move out for a few weeks because of all the dust and mayhem not being good for pregnancy and all. They had the baby and no house (but got to move in a few weeks later). Now with her second? She’s had the entire kitchen redone – the house is a war zone again. I’m worried for her and her husband’s sanity if they have a third!!
Being on time for anything is absolutely over rated.
even if I’m not stoned, I’d still find a reason to be late.
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SHAME ON MISTER!!!! How dare he make life more stressful for his poor, pregnant wife. Crissy should be able to lay on a couch, being fanned and fed grapes for the next three months!! Get to work Mister!
instead of fanning and feeding grapes, can i substitute spanking and feeding trouser kielbasa?
Oh God I remember “nesting”. I cleaned everything in sight! Twice!
That outfit Girlfriend has on just never gets old…
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Ben- As long as he doesn’t look like Bob Vila, I’d be okay with that.
Deutlich- I’m blaming it all on that, but I’m sort of always like this.
Daisee- I don’t think I’m going to take it quite that far.
Matt- You can sit with Mister on the naughty step then.
Tess- I like you.
Pimp- I don’t think so.
Lynne- I cleaned out closets this weekend. There’s almost nothing left. It’s awesome.
Cal- It really doesn’t.
You should send this to the people in Sudan – then they’d really have something to complain about.
You’re an educator.
Chris’s last blog post: viva la revolution or something!
This reminds me of a conversation I had with Sweets the other night when I was unloading the dishwasher. He said, “I was going to do that, you don’t have to.” And I said, “No, because you won’t do it in a timeframe that’s ok with me. And I can’t change that about you and shouldn’t get mad at you about it. So, I’m just going to do it myself.” And that was that. Sigh.
SoMi’s Nilsa’s last blog post: Challenged
Um, Crissy, I’m thinking most men are like this because my lovely Matt says he’s going to do something, but then guess what? HE NEVER GETS TO IT. Ugh. What are we going to do about these men?
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You know what Steve does? He’ll empty half the dishwasher, then wander away. HOLY FUCKING GOD, WHY?
Makes me want to be a lezzie. On the shizzle.
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“It’s like the same way that a child raised by wolves doesn’t know better than to take a dump in the middle of the living room.”
—
So that’s where my parents got me! Every single time I took a dump in any room other than the bathroom, they’d get all hush-hush on me. I knew I was adopted!
Crissy, damn woman! You are nesting early. LOL! Go get ‘em tiger!
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Chris- They whine too much. Like being raped and tortured in front of your children is ANYTHING compared to not having a room to stack diapers in! They seriously need a reality check.
Nilsa- That’s exactly what I’ve started to do too. I don’t have three weeks to wait for him to finish stuff.
Marie- Um, become Lezzies.
Melissa- Oh I KNOW!!! Ken does the same fucking thing. I will totally be a lezzie with you. We can make bread and strawberry jam together and be soooo happy. Maybe we’ll let Ken and Steve watch sometimes.
Akilah- I know. I’m always way ahead of schedule. Sucks.
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Dane never remembers where he put his sunglasses. And then we’ll get downstairs and I’ll say, “do you have your wallet?” and he’ll be all “no” and then he goes upstairs, gets his wallet and LOSES HIS SUNGLASSES AGAIN.
I am about to lose my mind.
I’m back to comment on Crissy’s comment about making strawberry jam. I realized the way to solve all our problems. The Dixie Chicks taught me in their song “Goodbye Earl.” It’s great. Just feed him some poisoned black-eyed peas, dump his body in the lake, and open a stand on the highway selling Tennessee ham and strawberry jam with your BFF/lezzie buddy. Perfect.
Poor Crissy…I so know what you mean!
F&(k Mister, tell him to obey Queen Crissy and stick to the plan!
You hear (read) this Crissy’s Pimp? Do what the pregnant lady says!
(or she’ll eat you)
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ps: Just like she ate Alice’s boyfriend…did you realise he’s MIA? what do you think that mortadella was made of>?
Thrice’s last blog post: MISSING PIECE
i do not like the direction these comments are taking
Not even the one about being Lezbeefriends with Melissa? I thought you’d be all over that shit.
i will accept that one, yes, but only if you allow me to take pictures and fondle myself while you do.
Hmmmm…I don’t know…you’ll have to empty the dishwasher first.
THE WHOLE THING.
All I can say is Shane is no help at all. But I do understand how you feel don’t get all stress out. Just make fun of the people who come into the library that always makes me feel better.
Hmm. I think maybe it’s DNA. My bff and I are late for EVERYTHING. Really. And, it drives our hubbies nuts, too. We even have a comparison. My late is only late by 30 minutes to an hour. My bff’s late is seriously freakin’ late.
Even if I’m up early and ready to go by said time I have to leave to make it on time or early, something always happens and that causes me to be late. Like this morning when my foster dog’s spay stitches ripped open while she was taking a crap from her straining and I had to take her to the ER vet to get stitched back up and then I was TWO hours late. Had Molly’s stitches stayed in place, I would have made it by 9AM, which I haven’t done in like, a year.
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Can I be pregnant for an hour so my house gets clean? Pleaseandthankyou.
And you’d think Gay Boyfriend would be nice and neat and scheduled and orderly. But no, he’s a fucking slob and is always making me late.
k8’s last blog post: I Think This is What They Meant When They Said, "Get a Life."
Psssh, i’m sure Taco won’t mind sleeping in a laundry hamper for a bit. I mean, it’ll be much more comfortable than, you know, where s/he is right now!
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I have never been on-time for anything so I have nothing to contribute to this discussion. Have you ever been on a plane and they close the cabin door and lock everything up for takeoff and then reopen it so that some dude can stumble on still holding a drink from the airport bar? Yeah, that was me.
I will say this. The last minute exists for a very good reason: so that you don’t waste quality porn time getting things done early.
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The only reason that the “last minute” exists is so that stuff will get done. Without the “last minute” then tasks would be completed as soon as possible, or when you get around to it, and we all know that this is just code for NEVER!
Yeah, yeah, blah blah blah. “I’m always on time, blah blah. I can’t stand being late, blah blah.” I know your type, missy!
I suspect you, like many other bloggers, talk a big game about your punctuality but when it’s time to deliver, (and I’m not talking about taco) you make me wait a half hour to eat bad lasagna.
What am I talking about, you ask?
Well, after reading the responses to one of Maxie’s more G-rated “Would you rather Wednesdays” http://www.ihatesomuch.com/?p=971 I got the impression that I was the only blogger out there struggling with being on time.
With this in mind, when meeting several bloggers for the first time in Pittsburgh a few months ago, I wanted to make a good impression. I showed up to the restaurant EARLY. I swear to God for the first time in my life I was early to something other than a very important job interview.
Guess what? I had to sit there for a half hour for the rest of those idiots (sorry, Maxie, Deutlich, Jenn, and Drew… I still love you*) all the while announcing, “I KNEW THEY WERE ALL FULL OF SHIT!” every time I looked at my watch.
In conclusion, I expect that if I ever have the stroke of good luck to meet you for bad Italian food, that you too will be late and I will undoubtedly rub it in your face for the good part of the meal. (Doesn’t that sound fun?)
xo
*Angela was on time.
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If i get pregnant for the nesting thing can I give you the baby once I pop it out?
Maxie’s last blog post: Tell Me Why
Wow. I just stumbled upon your blog when I searched for butt bleach (don’t ask….)! Actually, there is not much of a funnier way to find a blog. I started reading and could not stop. You have had me laughing for days. Thanks!
Mom Blogs – Blogs for Moms…
…
My sympathy Crissy. I distinctly remember being told I couldn’t lift or carry anything and no one else in the house would frikkin help clean and so I came home with the baby and the GD crib still wasn’t assembled. And my mom who had come to visit and “help with the baby” didn’t help, just sat and bitched about what a mess it was… I still think I should have risked it and cleaned the hell up…
On the flip side, Taco wouldn’t be the first kid to bed down in a dresser drawer…
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Midwife? Does this mean you are having the baby at home? In an inflatable pool? In the backyard? With Frank in attendance?
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Hey! Just because I took a dump on your living room floor does NOT give you the right to call my parents wolves.
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Oh my gosh Crissy, I feel ya, this whole post…story of my life. Minus the baby on the way, the boy over here is alll about waiting til the second PASSES to START thinking about what to do.
I’m glad you wrote about this and you still make me laugh everyday even when you’re annoyed and venting!
guess what i did last night?
started emptying the dishwasher, and walked away when it was half-done.
SOLIDARITY BROTHERS!!!!
wow…why do I feel my attempt of being funny was a total chaos and a flawless failure?
sorry
Thrice’s last blog post: MY UN-LOVE STORY
nahh, you’re cool thrice.
hell, you’re one better than twice, aren’t you?
lol, hell yeah!
Thrice’s last blog post: MY UN-LOVE STORY