Random Things


How I dislike vaulted ceilings. Last night as I prepared to do some sewing after the Tiny Terrorists finally fell unconscious I discovered that my dining room light had burned out. Damn it. K was already in bed and I was feeling somewhat kind and considerate after my burst of insensitive cicada sparked laughter, so I didn't wake him. I positioned my chair under the light and climbed up only to realized that even standing on my toes on the chair I was still a good foot out of reach of the light. I grumbled and climbed down so squint at my sewing as I tried to do it by the dim light coming from the kitchen. I figured I'd just as K to change the bulb before he went to work this morning. This morning came and K went to work before I could request his assistance. So what did I do? Something I would tell my offspring not to do and would even give them a time out for. I stacked their step stool on my chair and climbed up. Unlike my children, I know my own mortality and can vividly envision my clumsy self tumbling off this precarious position and ending up maimed and embarrassed as I tried to explain to the paramedic why I was stupid enough to climb up on a stool placed on a chair and why there was a sewing machine wedged up my ass. But I needed light. I discovered two things - on it's a great thing to have a bra as that's where I put all the hardware from the light cover and the next time the damn light burns out and K isn't home, I'm just going to hold up one of the Little People to do it for me. It will probably be easier than me climbing up on precariously balanced furniture and hoping not to fall. Vaulted ceilings suck.

NEXT!
how pathetic is this? Today as I waited for the bus to arrive the sky opened up and POURED on me. One of the dads was kind enough to loan me an umbrella while I wait for the bus. On the short walk back home Super Girl and I got totally drenched and she requested hot tea. Being a benevolent parent and not wanting to my child to some day be standing in a bell tower aiming a high powered riffle at people or worse writing her memoirs with several chapters devoted to the painful details of how deprived and neglected she was because of me and how she spent many years and many thousands of dollars on therapy because of it, I said yes. Upon reaching the pantry I was to discover that I had no individual sized regular tea bags. I had Family sized tea bags and several boxes of individual sized green tea bags. Since green tea generally tastes like ass and I only drink it because it's GOOD for me, I figured that two beings who consider Chef Boyardee to be FINE dining and anything that you can get in a from the drive-thru in a colorful bag with a toy to be a well balanced and delightful meal, would NOT want GREEN Tea. I did what any fine parent wanting to avoid the incredible whining and used the LARGE tea bag. Three times. The same tea bag. Hey it was the family size, we are a family!

MORE STUFF!

The other day at lunch with Badra, the waiter dropped the straw as he handed it to cabbage Patch for her chocolate shake. The waiter then said "Oh, let me get another straw." and walked off to get another one. Mind you the straw was in paper so I'm not sure why he needed to get another one. But that is not the funny part, it was the LOOK Cabbage Patch gave the waiter. She's just 4 but she rolled her eyes and looked away from him! Then she sat there with her head on her hand looking severely irritated. I had to look away, it was too funny! I have no idea where she got that from! She's going to be such a bitch when she's grown up.

SOMETHING ELSE!

I'm so excited! A friend is going to come to TRF with me at least once! I can't wait!

AND FINALLY!

D is now the PROUD owner of a brand new black Mercedes. That thing HAS to get better gas mileage than her Expedition and I'm sure she will appreciate paying less than her car payment to fill the damn thing up!