Peace and Harmony or Temporary Insanity
Sunshine still hates Coco, but she's pretending to like the dog (in front of me) just to get close enough to take a swipe at her (she used to do this with my dog, poor thing was so paranoid around that damn cat). Coco is not quite so stupid as to trust the motives of Sunshine, she will let Sunshine get within 6 inches then back away which leaves Sunshine looking frustrated.
Now Dusty is another story. I just looked up to see her and Coco playing. I have just watched them play this kind of hide and around the corner and up the stairs. Sunshine is just looking on with absolute revulsion. I'm watching with confusion. Complete confusion because Dusty hates other animals. All other animals, I think she only tolerates her sister because they are litter mates. Every other pet we've brought into this household has been met with hissing and scratching. All visiting pets have been met with just as much venom if not more. But Coco, she was PLAYING with her. This is also odd because Dusty doesn't play much. She's a very uncoordinated cat, I've actually seen this cat trip, she doesn't usually land on her feet and seems embarassed when we see her do something like that. And she was playing with Coco... I could totally blame this on hormones as she's in heat now, except that's NEVER EVER made her even one tiny bit nicer to any of the other animals - NEVER. Not even the ever amorous bunny. She's a bitchy cat and for some reason she seems to like Coco - maybe she's just pretending to like Coco to piss of Sunshine (it's working).
Saturday, December 24, 2005
Thursday, December 22, 2005
From The Desk Of S. Claus
North Pole
Dear Super Girl and Cabbage Patch;
I recently got a report that you two opened all your Christmas presents early. This is a BAD, BAD thing. Prior to this even, I already had a file on both of you – quite thick I might add. I took some time to review the file and discovered a couple of puzzling things. Seems your mom is Jewish so that would make you half Jewish by default. Based on that evidence, even before this unfortunate event of early present opening you were slated for only half of the loot that the average Christian child would get (sorry, it’s the rules, I have to draw the line somewhere, ya know. It’s not like I really can compete with 8 nights of presents!). Secondly your dad is GAY! What the hell? I’m not even sure what to say about that, it’s really not in the books here, kike mom, gay dad – there is no entry like that! So I’m just going to have to play it by ear since the Elves Union is still working on a new updated more PC list of rules.
Here is my decision, since you opened all your presents prior to December 25th, you will forfeit all the presents I was going to bring (not really much to cry over, you only get half anyway). Of course I had to consider that you have a Jewish mom so that makes you half and you have a gay dad so that makes you… um.. confused… And since Santa is feeling sorry for you, you can expect to have some loot in your stocking, nothing big, just a sympathy offering. Sheesh… Jew mom, gay dad… am I going to know your house by the pink tree with rainbow colored ornaments and pride flag menorah?? My one piece of advice for you kids is to join a cult, it’s got to be less confusing than this family.
Warmest regards,
Santa
PS
Tell your mom to leave out some Jack and Coke, I have a feeling I may need it this year.
North Pole
Dear Super Girl and Cabbage Patch;
I recently got a report that you two opened all your Christmas presents early. This is a BAD, BAD thing. Prior to this even, I already had a file on both of you – quite thick I might add. I took some time to review the file and discovered a couple of puzzling things. Seems your mom is Jewish so that would make you half Jewish by default. Based on that evidence, even before this unfortunate event of early present opening you were slated for only half of the loot that the average Christian child would get (sorry, it’s the rules, I have to draw the line somewhere, ya know. It’s not like I really can compete with 8 nights of presents!). Secondly your dad is GAY! What the hell? I’m not even sure what to say about that, it’s really not in the books here, kike mom, gay dad – there is no entry like that! So I’m just going to have to play it by ear since the Elves Union is still working on a new updated more PC list of rules.
Here is my decision, since you opened all your presents prior to December 25th, you will forfeit all the presents I was going to bring (not really much to cry over, you only get half anyway). Of course I had to consider that you have a Jewish mom so that makes you half and you have a gay dad so that makes you… um.. confused… And since Santa is feeling sorry for you, you can expect to have some loot in your stocking, nothing big, just a sympathy offering. Sheesh… Jew mom, gay dad… am I going to know your house by the pink tree with rainbow colored ornaments and pride flag menorah?? My one piece of advice for you kids is to join a cult, it’s got to be less confusing than this family.
Warmest regards,
Santa
PS
Tell your mom to leave out some Jack and Coke, I have a feeling I may need it this year.
| Disorder | Rating |
| Paranoid Personality Disorder: | Moderate |
| Schizoid Personality Disorder: | Low |
| Schizotypal Personality Disorder: | Moderate |
| Antisocial Personality Disorder: | Low |
| Borderline Personality Disorder: | Moderate |
| Histrionic Personality Disorder: | High |
| Narcissistic Personality Disorder: | High |
| Avoidant Personality Disorder: | Moderate |
| Dependent Personality Disorder: | Moderate |
| Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder: | Moderate |
-- Take the Personality Disorder Test -- -- Personality Disorder Info -- | |
Wow... that makes me almost sane!
Avoidance, Life’s Best Lesson
With dog sitting comes the happy little task of walking said dog so that it doesn't take a crap in the house. I just returned from that lovely task, I of course took the Little People with me as they are home and gawd knows they are so in love with this dog they are still in full on stalker mode and therefore that means they want to be near the dog even during the most unpleasant parts of the dogs life, like when she’s trying to take a crap. I would not be surprised if this dog files for a restraining order by Saturday.
ANYWAY after the dog does her ‘business’ in the wooded area next to the creek (place strategically chosen by me as to make the picking up of steaming piles of dog poo unnecessary), we walk further down the sidewalk before heading back toward home. During the walk I continually tell the Tiny Terrorists to NOT walk in the grass, that’s where the dog just went poo. Right after the third time I tell Cabbage Patch to stay on the sidewalk because dogs poo there Super Girl yells “Cabbage Patch! You got something on your shoe!” … yes, you know what it was. Dog Shit. Damn it. The rest of the conversation went like this:
Me: ohhhh… damn. Wipe your boot in the grass. No like this! No, like THIS! Look at me! Like THIS!
Super Girl: EWWWWWWW!!!! Dog poo!
Coco: Arf! Arf!
Cabbage Patch: Aaaaaaahhhhhhh! *running on ahead*
Me: Cabbage Patch! Stop! Stop! Now!
Super Girl: EWWWWWW!!!! She stepped in DOG POO!
Coco: Arf! Arf!
Cabbage Patch: Aaaaaahhhhhhh! *running in circles now*
Me: Stop! Now wipe your foot on the grass. No, the grass! NO… THE… GRASS. Right HERE.
Super Girl: EWWWWWWW!!!! DOG POOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
Coco: Arf! Arf!
Cabbage Patch: Aaaaahhhhh!!! *running towards home*
Me: Stop! Wait! Fine. Take your boots off at the door! Did you hear me? TAKE YOUR BOOTS OFF AT THE DOOR!
The whole time I’m considering just setting the boots on fire but knowing that’s just a little extreme and stupid since these boots are her FAVORITE foot wear currently (aside from the monkey flip flops, but it’s a tad too cold for flip flops these days) and she can get them on with NO help from me. But they have DOG SHIT on them and that makes me NEVER EVER want to see them again. Hell I’ve been known to throw away shoes after stepping in dog shit, but these are THE BOOTS. Shit. Dog shit. So I just demand that the boots come off before I even unlock the door and after settling them in to adore the dog, I take the Clorox Clean Up spray out and spray about half of it on the bottom of the shoe, I plan to do that several more times today and will probably leave the boots outside tonight and a final spray of cleaning stuff before I allow them back in the house. I know that I’m probably going to be haunted by phantom poop smell every time I see the boots though, so they ultimately may need to be burned for my sanity. Ewwww! Dog poo!
But on the bright side, my child has now learned a valuable life lesson: It's wise to side step the piles of shit.
With dog sitting comes the happy little task of walking said dog so that it doesn't take a crap in the house. I just returned from that lovely task, I of course took the Little People with me as they are home and gawd knows they are so in love with this dog they are still in full on stalker mode and therefore that means they want to be near the dog even during the most unpleasant parts of the dogs life, like when she’s trying to take a crap. I would not be surprised if this dog files for a restraining order by Saturday.
ANYWAY after the dog does her ‘business’ in the wooded area next to the creek (place strategically chosen by me as to make the picking up of steaming piles of dog poo unnecessary), we walk further down the sidewalk before heading back toward home. During the walk I continually tell the Tiny Terrorists to NOT walk in the grass, that’s where the dog just went poo. Right after the third time I tell Cabbage Patch to stay on the sidewalk because dogs poo there Super Girl yells “Cabbage Patch! You got something on your shoe!” … yes, you know what it was. Dog Shit. Damn it. The rest of the conversation went like this:
Me: ohhhh… damn. Wipe your boot in the grass. No like this! No, like THIS! Look at me! Like THIS!
Super Girl: EWWWWWWW!!!! Dog poo!
Coco: Arf! Arf!
Cabbage Patch: Aaaaaaahhhhhhh! *running on ahead*
Me: Cabbage Patch! Stop! Stop! Now!
Super Girl: EWWWWWW!!!! She stepped in DOG POO!
Coco: Arf! Arf!
Cabbage Patch: Aaaaaahhhhhhh! *running in circles now*
Me: Stop! Now wipe your foot on the grass. No, the grass! NO… THE… GRASS. Right HERE.
Super Girl: EWWWWWWW!!!! DOG POOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
Coco: Arf! Arf!
Cabbage Patch: Aaaaahhhhh!!! *running towards home*
Me: Stop! Wait! Fine. Take your boots off at the door! Did you hear me? TAKE YOUR BOOTS OFF AT THE DOOR!
The whole time I’m considering just setting the boots on fire but knowing that’s just a little extreme and stupid since these boots are her FAVORITE foot wear currently (aside from the monkey flip flops, but it’s a tad too cold for flip flops these days) and she can get them on with NO help from me. But they have DOG SHIT on them and that makes me NEVER EVER want to see them again. Hell I’ve been known to throw away shoes after stepping in dog shit, but these are THE BOOTS. Shit. Dog shit. So I just demand that the boots come off before I even unlock the door and after settling them in to adore the dog, I take the Clorox Clean Up spray out and spray about half of it on the bottom of the shoe, I plan to do that several more times today and will probably leave the boots outside tonight and a final spray of cleaning stuff before I allow them back in the house. I know that I’m probably going to be haunted by phantom poop smell every time I see the boots though, so they ultimately may need to be burned for my sanity. Ewwww! Dog poo!
But on the bright side, my child has now learned a valuable life lesson: It's wise to side step the piles of shit.
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
Holiday Cheer
Isn't that lovely. Holiday cards! (notice the very cool Chanukah card) I've misplaced a few, but i'm sure I'll find them soon enough.
What a difference a day makes. So far this day is not a huge steaming pile of shit. Last night Coco the Wonder Dog slept in my bed. So did Sunshine the Magic Cat. Sounds cozy doesn't it? How wrong you are. Sunshine hates Coco being here. She hates Coco's very existance. Every time she sees Coco she starts to think of new and painful ways to rid the world of Coco and wishes she shot flames or lasers from her eyes. Every time Coco is within 3 feet of her, she poofs up like a bottle brush and hisses like an aresol can. She despises Coco to the core of her little body. But she loves me. Obsessively and possively. But love is love right, even if you have to get a restraining order (thank heavens she doesn't have thumbs and can't talk) Coco is a sweet dog. She likes everyone in my home... except Sunshine. She tried to like Sunshine, but Sunshine did that hissy, poofy thing everytime she got near. Sunshine tried to eat her food and still got all hissy and pouffy, talk about graditude.
Coco slept on my bed last night. Sunshine usually sneaks into my room and sleeps on my bed at night. Sunshine was NOT happy about Coco being on my bed... on HER bed. She spent most of yesterday hiding under the table away from the dog except for the few times she came out to try to eat Coco's food or just to hiss at her, so I honestly thought Coco being on my bed would keep Sunshine off the bed, which is good because Sunshine has a bad habit of licking my face at 3 am to show me the love and interupt my sleep. No, Sunshine would not give up her spot on the bed. Coco wasn't about to move. All last night she glared at Coco from her pillow and when Coco ventured too close, I was awakend by growls. What a fun night.
Today, Coco has started to growl at Sunshine when she starts that hissy shit. Today while Cabbage Patch was napping in my bed Coco decides NOW is when she needs to assert herself. I smacked the hissing cat with a pillow. I smacked the growling dog with the same pillow. They both shut up, neither moved but they looked away from each other and pretended they didn't exsist. They are like pissy teenaged girls. I'd throw them both in the creek if they weren't so damn cute (and D would string me up if anything happened to Coco!).
They hate each other. Funny thing is, that distance between each other that they allow is getting smaller and smaller. By the end of the week I expect them to be curled up together on the couch, quietly growling at each other. Ahhh, 'tis the season!
Isn't that lovely. Holiday cards! (notice the very cool Chanukah card) I've misplaced a few, but i'm sure I'll find them soon enough.
What a difference a day makes. So far this day is not a huge steaming pile of shit. Last night Coco the Wonder Dog slept in my bed. So did Sunshine the Magic Cat. Sounds cozy doesn't it? How wrong you are. Sunshine hates Coco being here. She hates Coco's very existance. Every time she sees Coco she starts to think of new and painful ways to rid the world of Coco and wishes she shot flames or lasers from her eyes. Every time Coco is within 3 feet of her, she poofs up like a bottle brush and hisses like an aresol can. She despises Coco to the core of her little body. But she loves me. Obsessively and possively. But love is love right, even if you have to get a restraining order (thank heavens she doesn't have thumbs and can't talk) Coco is a sweet dog. She likes everyone in my home... except Sunshine. She tried to like Sunshine, but Sunshine did that hissy, poofy thing everytime she got near. Sunshine tried to eat her food and still got all hissy and pouffy, talk about graditude.
Coco slept on my bed last night. Sunshine usually sneaks into my room and sleeps on my bed at night. Sunshine was NOT happy about Coco being on my bed... on HER bed. She spent most of yesterday hiding under the table away from the dog except for the few times she came out to try to eat Coco's food or just to hiss at her, so I honestly thought Coco being on my bed would keep Sunshine off the bed, which is good because Sunshine has a bad habit of licking my face at 3 am to show me the love and interupt my sleep. No, Sunshine would not give up her spot on the bed. Coco wasn't about to move. All last night she glared at Coco from her pillow and when Coco ventured too close, I was awakend by growls. What a fun night.
Today, Coco has started to growl at Sunshine when she starts that hissy shit. Today while Cabbage Patch was napping in my bed Coco decides NOW is when she needs to assert herself. I smacked the hissing cat with a pillow. I smacked the growling dog with the same pillow. They both shut up, neither moved but they looked away from each other and pretended they didn't exsist. They are like pissy teenaged girls. I'd throw them both in the creek if they weren't so damn cute (and D would string me up if anything happened to Coco!).
They hate each other. Funny thing is, that distance between each other that they allow is getting smaller and smaller. By the end of the week I expect them to be curled up together on the couch, quietly growling at each other. Ahhh, 'tis the season!
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Cutiest Dog In The World
See, not everything in my life is a steaming pile of shit right now, I happen to be dog sitting my niece doggie this week while D is in Florida visiting her buddy Mickey for the holidays. Tonight I'll have the sweetest dog curled up on my bed as my cat crouches in a corner and plots her death. Man, life is great.
See, not everything in my life is a steaming pile of shit right now, I happen to be dog sitting my niece doggie this week while D is in Florida visiting her buddy Mickey for the holidays. Tonight I'll have the sweetest dog curled up on my bed as my cat crouches in a corner and plots her death. Man, life is great.
Bah! Humbug! Part II
Or
What The Hell Was I Thinking???
Today I had the insane thought that when K got home we would grab a quick dinner and go to the store to do some quick holiday shopping then to the grocery store to pick up some stuff to make cookies for Super Girl's holiday party tomorrow. Seems simple, right? Well that's where your thinking is just WRONG.
We get in the car and begin negotiations on where to go to dinner, just as we pass the exit to go to the NEW Cafe Brazil in my area is when we decide that is where we will have dinner. Fine, no problem, take the next exit and turn around. I go to turn around and K advises me to go to the next street and take a right... well as soon as it's too damn late to go the way I had originally planned, I see that traffic is at a stand still due to an accident. Now, this would normally only be a minor anoyance except that tonight I had the Tiny Terrorist in full CHAOS and DESTRUCTION mode and they were bickering in the back seat and yelling for me or K to intervien. I turned the music up and tried to drown out their noise.
Eventually we made it to Cafe Brazil where I prayed that the copious amounts of coffee I was soon to ingest would help to get rid of my pounding headache. One bright spot, Tuesdays at this Cafe Brazil, kids eat free. Yay. Dinner starts out nice and peaceful even but eventually disolves into whining and petulance and a sibling smacking incident. By the time we pay and leave I could swear I heard the waitstaff muttering something about duct tape and muzzles. Off to Half Price Books we go.
Half Price Books where everything is FINE until it's time to go and Cabbage Patch learns that we are NOT buying HER books wherein she proceeds to let EVERYONE know that she's NOT happy and she WANTS a BOOK. I'm sure EVERYONE in the store enjoyed that and a few probably swore off EVER having children at that very moment. By the time I was finished paying for our books, Super Girl had decided that her sister could not garner more negative attention than her and she started acting like a monkey on crack and couldn't keep her hands off ANYTHING and refused to listen to ME. When we got to the door I gave them both the Vulcan Mommy Arm Pinch and spoke to them through clenched teeth about how we don't act like maniacs in stores and though I got several 'yes ma'am's, I knew I was talking to myself.
Off to Albertsons we went to get cookie stuff. By this time I was ready to just throw in the towel and head home, but I had it in my twisted little mind that I WAS going to do the cookies for the damn holiday party. I figured I'd just buy the slice and bake kind then let the kids decorate them. Much to my irritation ALL of the slice and bake packages of sugar cookie dough was gone. ALL that was left was two tubes of chocolate chip cookie dough. Damn it. We left Albies and headed to Brookshires in hopes of finding the sugar cookie dough. Although in the short drive from Albertsons to Brookshires due to the constant whining and bickering of the Tiny Terrorists I had lost my will to bake and instead opted for two packages of cookies from the bakery section. We paid and got the hell out of there before I felt the urge to buy a package of razors and end it right there in line.
The Tiny Terrorists whined the ENTIRE way home and right up until they went to bed. If I have a hangover tomorrow I know it'll be from all the whine I've had today.
I never want to have to shop for anything ever again during the holiday season. Next year I swear I will stock my kitchen in November so that I don't have to shop until the second week of January. If I haven't bought gifts for people prior to the holiday shopping season, I will just send them a note telling them that I love them but I can not shop for them right at that moment as the thought of being in any store during this time of year makes me want to slit my wrists with my debit card.
Happy holidays and all that other crap.
Or
What The Hell Was I Thinking???
Today I had the insane thought that when K got home we would grab a quick dinner and go to the store to do some quick holiday shopping then to the grocery store to pick up some stuff to make cookies for Super Girl's holiday party tomorrow. Seems simple, right? Well that's where your thinking is just WRONG.
We get in the car and begin negotiations on where to go to dinner, just as we pass the exit to go to the NEW Cafe Brazil in my area is when we decide that is where we will have dinner. Fine, no problem, take the next exit and turn around. I go to turn around and K advises me to go to the next street and take a right... well as soon as it's too damn late to go the way I had originally planned, I see that traffic is at a stand still due to an accident. Now, this would normally only be a minor anoyance except that tonight I had the Tiny Terrorist in full CHAOS and DESTRUCTION mode and they were bickering in the back seat and yelling for me or K to intervien. I turned the music up and tried to drown out their noise.
Eventually we made it to Cafe Brazil where I prayed that the copious amounts of coffee I was soon to ingest would help to get rid of my pounding headache. One bright spot, Tuesdays at this Cafe Brazil, kids eat free. Yay. Dinner starts out nice and peaceful even but eventually disolves into whining and petulance and a sibling smacking incident. By the time we pay and leave I could swear I heard the waitstaff muttering something about duct tape and muzzles. Off to Half Price Books we go.
Half Price Books where everything is FINE until it's time to go and Cabbage Patch learns that we are NOT buying HER books wherein she proceeds to let EVERYONE know that she's NOT happy and she WANTS a BOOK. I'm sure EVERYONE in the store enjoyed that and a few probably swore off EVER having children at that very moment. By the time I was finished paying for our books, Super Girl had decided that her sister could not garner more negative attention than her and she started acting like a monkey on crack and couldn't keep her hands off ANYTHING and refused to listen to ME. When we got to the door I gave them both the Vulcan Mommy Arm Pinch and spoke to them through clenched teeth about how we don't act like maniacs in stores and though I got several 'yes ma'am's, I knew I was talking to myself.
Off to Albertsons we went to get cookie stuff. By this time I was ready to just throw in the towel and head home, but I had it in my twisted little mind that I WAS going to do the cookies for the damn holiday party. I figured I'd just buy the slice and bake kind then let the kids decorate them. Much to my irritation ALL of the slice and bake packages of sugar cookie dough was gone. ALL that was left was two tubes of chocolate chip cookie dough. Damn it. We left Albies and headed to Brookshires in hopes of finding the sugar cookie dough. Although in the short drive from Albertsons to Brookshires due to the constant whining and bickering of the Tiny Terrorists I had lost my will to bake and instead opted for two packages of cookies from the bakery section. We paid and got the hell out of there before I felt the urge to buy a package of razors and end it right there in line.
The Tiny Terrorists whined the ENTIRE way home and right up until they went to bed. If I have a hangover tomorrow I know it'll be from all the whine I've had today.
I never want to have to shop for anything ever again during the holiday season. Next year I swear I will stock my kitchen in November so that I don't have to shop until the second week of January. If I haven't bought gifts for people prior to the holiday shopping season, I will just send them a note telling them that I love them but I can not shop for them right at that moment as the thought of being in any store during this time of year makes me want to slit my wrists with my debit card.
Happy holidays and all that other crap.
Bah! Humbug!
This morning right after K left for work, the Tiny Terrorists convened in their room to commence naughtiness. After a few moments, I got smart that something was up and headed up to ther lair to investigate. What I found made my head nearly explode in a shower of lava, brimstone and sparks. I saw my progeny crouched on the floor trying to hide holiday gifts freshly unwrapped. Agggfhhhhhhfuckkkkkkdaaammmnnittohellllllshhhhhittfffuck! I composed myself and controlled my impulse to tell them that opening their presents early had caused Santa Claus to have a heart attack and die, that Christmas was ruined and everyone would hate them so they might as well decide to be Jewish now. Just kidding, my urge was more along the lines of just spanking them both THEN telling them that they'd get no presents until they turn 35. But I digress, I confiscated the pressies and hearded my offspring down stairs so Super Girl could finish getting ready for school. Cabbage Patch was banished to my bedroom to sit in my bed and watch Muppet Treasure Island. That is where she last was when I walked Super Girl to the bus.
And more badness occurs...
When I return, Cabbage Patch is still sitting in my bed and watching Muppet Treasure Island. She smiles at me then states that she moved all the presents into my room. I say 'you don't need to touch the presents' thinking she meant the ones she already opened that morning and glance at the little pink Christmas tree and notice with astonishment that it's present-less now. My eyes bug out of my head, steam pours out of my ears and my face becomes the visage of a skull as I think "I should have spanked them!" All of the presents save one are now unwrapped and stacked in my room. My brain can not comprehend what has just happened except that I'm mightly tempted to inform my 4 year old that the holidays are offically over. But I didn't. I just informed her that I was PISSED and she was in TROUBLE and was GROUNDED from the computer for 2 weeks.
I decided to consult K before I informed my children that their actions made Santa hate them and 15 kittens were killed because of it and the baby Jesus himself cried because even he knew not to open that box of frankensence before the Virgin Mary set it in front of him on Christmas morning after he had gotten the chocolate out of his stocking. I figured since Christmas was in K's department of religious instruction for the offspring, I'd consult with him first. His decision is that they get the pressents on Christmas and I'm not to set them on fire or take down the decorations or tell them that Santa has put a hit out on them. I did tell him that they would both be grounded from the computer for the duration of Super Girl's winter break (which he though was harsh). He said that there would be no Santa gifts this year though, and I'm starting to work on the letter from Santa to the kids - I'll post it later and you can let me know if I'll be causing them permanent psychological damage and many many years of counseling in their future.
Must go, off to fold laundry and ponder the best way to ruin my progeny's childhood yet not look like the bad guy.
This morning right after K left for work, the Tiny Terrorists convened in their room to commence naughtiness. After a few moments, I got smart that something was up and headed up to ther lair to investigate. What I found made my head nearly explode in a shower of lava, brimstone and sparks. I saw my progeny crouched on the floor trying to hide holiday gifts freshly unwrapped. Agggfhhhhhhfuckkkkkkdaaammmnnittohellllllshhhhhittfffuck! I composed myself and controlled my impulse to tell them that opening their presents early had caused Santa Claus to have a heart attack and die, that Christmas was ruined and everyone would hate them so they might as well decide to be Jewish now. Just kidding, my urge was more along the lines of just spanking them both THEN telling them that they'd get no presents until they turn 35. But I digress, I confiscated the pressies and hearded my offspring down stairs so Super Girl could finish getting ready for school. Cabbage Patch was banished to my bedroom to sit in my bed and watch Muppet Treasure Island. That is where she last was when I walked Super Girl to the bus.
And more badness occurs...
When I return, Cabbage Patch is still sitting in my bed and watching Muppet Treasure Island. She smiles at me then states that she moved all the presents into my room. I say 'you don't need to touch the presents' thinking she meant the ones she already opened that morning and glance at the little pink Christmas tree and notice with astonishment that it's present-less now. My eyes bug out of my head, steam pours out of my ears and my face becomes the visage of a skull as I think "I should have spanked them!" All of the presents save one are now unwrapped and stacked in my room. My brain can not comprehend what has just happened except that I'm mightly tempted to inform my 4 year old that the holidays are offically over. But I didn't. I just informed her that I was PISSED and she was in TROUBLE and was GROUNDED from the computer for 2 weeks.
I decided to consult K before I informed my children that their actions made Santa hate them and 15 kittens were killed because of it and the baby Jesus himself cried because even he knew not to open that box of frankensence before the Virgin Mary set it in front of him on Christmas morning after he had gotten the chocolate out of his stocking. I figured since Christmas was in K's department of religious instruction for the offspring, I'd consult with him first. His decision is that they get the pressents on Christmas and I'm not to set them on fire or take down the decorations or tell them that Santa has put a hit out on them. I did tell him that they would both be grounded from the computer for the duration of Super Girl's winter break (which he though was harsh). He said that there would be no Santa gifts this year though, and I'm starting to work on the letter from Santa to the kids - I'll post it later and you can let me know if I'll be causing them permanent psychological damage and many many years of counseling in their future.
Must go, off to fold laundry and ponder the best way to ruin my progeny's childhood yet not look like the bad guy.
Party Crashing and Thrashing
Saturday night was Whysper’s company holiday party. The invitation said it was to be a swanky affair at the DMA with fabulous gourmet food and casino gambling (with fake money). Our friend The Chef works at the DMA as… well... a chef and he was going to be working that night. Since Whysper had an opening for a GUEST to join her for the party, it was then that Jill and I had to fight it out to decide which of us got the privilege of being the GUEST. Gourmet food? Fake gambling? Free booze? Hell I was all over that. I had Jill pinned in a half nelson in less than 2 minutes and begging for mercy… well not really… I won by default because she had her kid that weekend. Custodial weekends rock!
Friday night when Whysper came to get us to go see lights she dropped off a very pretty dress for me to wear to the party – she knows better than to trust me to dress myself, I’d have show up in something short, low cut and finished off with fishnets and boots (hey, I look good in my club wear!). The dress fit perfectly and all I had to do was find some appropriate shoes.
Saturday at my big hospital I had 22 babies on my list to get taken care of. Fuck. Despite the fact that I didn’t arrive at that hospital until nearly 11 am I still expected to be out of there by 3 pm. HAR, HAR, HAR! I worked without a break until 5:15 when I walked out of the hospital. That meant that I’d have maybe 30-40 minutes to get ready. Fine, I can do that, it only takes 10 minutes to put on make up, 10 minutes to make my hair look FABULOUS and that leaves another 10-20 to search for the PERFECT SHOES.
After making my hair fabulous and applying copious amounts of sparkly eye makeup, I started to dig through the mountain of shoes I have. I found three possibilities to choose from. One a most fabulous antique pair black pair with pointy toe, super slim heel and velvet bow, another a beautiful black velvet pair of heels with cut outs that I wore one time and finally a cute black satin pair of pumps with ankle strap and rhinestone clasp. I put on my favorites – the antique ones to see if they would cause me great pain and about the time that I was doing my test walk through my living room, Whysper arrived! So no time to check the others, off we went.
We arrived, got our fake money, checked out coats and headed for the food line. Damn it was good! I’m not going to go into what it was, because that would just make you jealous. We ate, we drank, we talked, we had fun. I kept pointing out hot men to Whysper telling her I was mentally placing a sticky note on each so that she could find out about them for me. Whysper showed great composure and patience by not smacking me upside the head every time I did that (and I’m glad she didn’t as I’d probably have a nasty concussion since I was virtually marking every hot man sans a wedding ring that walked by, and I’m happy to say that Whysper has in fact has done some checking on the HOT Cowboy that I was drooling over).
The most interesting thing to happen at the party was for me to run into someone I went to high school with. I managed to catch up to him after walking past him twice and realizing that it was in fact Jason S. We had a short and very animated conversation (seems I talk with my hands) in which my high school nemesis was mentioned, where in he said that he had slept with her, but I knew that because she told me, and the mentioned that he was her first, but again I knew that because she told me, we exchanged kid facts (his one to my two), job facts, marriage facts (his normal, mine gay) and all the normal type crap that one exchanges with someone you haven’t seen in like 16 years. Then we left, out fake money had run out and the bar was closed!
Off to the thrasher bar! Whysper’s friends were playing in a bar down in Deep Ellum. It was exactly what one would expect for Deep Ellum, dirty looking, dark and seedy and we were WAY over dressed to be there. The band was cool, the music was great and we had much fun. We must do it again… except not in sparkly dresses and heels.
Saturday night was Whysper’s company holiday party. The invitation said it was to be a swanky affair at the DMA with fabulous gourmet food and casino gambling (with fake money). Our friend The Chef works at the DMA as… well... a chef and he was going to be working that night. Since Whysper had an opening for a GUEST to join her for the party, it was then that Jill and I had to fight it out to decide which of us got the privilege of being the GUEST. Gourmet food? Fake gambling? Free booze? Hell I was all over that. I had Jill pinned in a half nelson in less than 2 minutes and begging for mercy… well not really… I won by default because she had her kid that weekend. Custodial weekends rock!
Friday night when Whysper came to get us to go see lights she dropped off a very pretty dress for me to wear to the party – she knows better than to trust me to dress myself, I’d have show up in something short, low cut and finished off with fishnets and boots (hey, I look good in my club wear!). The dress fit perfectly and all I had to do was find some appropriate shoes.
Saturday at my big hospital I had 22 babies on my list to get taken care of. Fuck. Despite the fact that I didn’t arrive at that hospital until nearly 11 am I still expected to be out of there by 3 pm. HAR, HAR, HAR! I worked without a break until 5:15 when I walked out of the hospital. That meant that I’d have maybe 30-40 minutes to get ready. Fine, I can do that, it only takes 10 minutes to put on make up, 10 minutes to make my hair look FABULOUS and that leaves another 10-20 to search for the PERFECT SHOES.
After making my hair fabulous and applying copious amounts of sparkly eye makeup, I started to dig through the mountain of shoes I have. I found three possibilities to choose from. One a most fabulous antique pair black pair with pointy toe, super slim heel and velvet bow, another a beautiful black velvet pair of heels with cut outs that I wore one time and finally a cute black satin pair of pumps with ankle strap and rhinestone clasp. I put on my favorites – the antique ones to see if they would cause me great pain and about the time that I was doing my test walk through my living room, Whysper arrived! So no time to check the others, off we went.
We arrived, got our fake money, checked out coats and headed for the food line. Damn it was good! I’m not going to go into what it was, because that would just make you jealous. We ate, we drank, we talked, we had fun. I kept pointing out hot men to Whysper telling her I was mentally placing a sticky note on each so that she could find out about them for me. Whysper showed great composure and patience by not smacking me upside the head every time I did that (and I’m glad she didn’t as I’d probably have a nasty concussion since I was virtually marking every hot man sans a wedding ring that walked by, and I’m happy to say that Whysper has in fact has done some checking on the HOT Cowboy that I was drooling over).
The most interesting thing to happen at the party was for me to run into someone I went to high school with. I managed to catch up to him after walking past him twice and realizing that it was in fact Jason S. We had a short and very animated conversation (seems I talk with my hands) in which my high school nemesis was mentioned, where in he said that he had slept with her, but I knew that because she told me, and the mentioned that he was her first, but again I knew that because she told me, we exchanged kid facts (his one to my two), job facts, marriage facts (his normal, mine gay) and all the normal type crap that one exchanges with someone you haven’t seen in like 16 years. Then we left, out fake money had run out and the bar was closed!
Off to the thrasher bar! Whysper’s friends were playing in a bar down in Deep Ellum. It was exactly what one would expect for Deep Ellum, dirty looking, dark and seedy and we were WAY over dressed to be there. The band was cool, the music was great and we had much fun. We must do it again… except not in sparkly dresses and heels.
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