Saturday, July 15, 2006

While I was picking up the Twins of Terror this afternoon, one of the bubbly young counselors gushed, "Your boys are so sweet! They're such good boys!"

I blurted out, "Are you talking about MY kids?"

She looked confused, while an older counselor laughed (who was probably the ripe old age of 21) "You're Brett and Tyler's mom right?"

"Yes... you mean they're GOOD here?" I'm shocked.

She's back to gushing, "They're so sweet! They always hugging each other and they're always so good!"

"Are you sure they were hugging?" I'm mystified. Now if they were trying to wrestle each other to the ground, or strangle each other, that would make more sense. Otherwise, my kids have been kidnapped by aliens and replaced with these duplicates with sweet dispositions. Or they were flipped with an alternate universe... maybe they'll turn up with goatees.

"When one cries, the other gives him a hug," she explained.

Hmmm. That does happen on occasion. When one accidentally on purposely hurts the other and he starts to cry, the guilty party will try to console him so the Mom of Justice won't swoop down upon him.

At this point, B&T exit the building. They're all smiley and happy!!!! With no facial hair. Then Brett was taking his sweet time getting in the car and Tyler starts yelling at him and calling him an idiot. Guess they weren't kidnapped by aliens. Darn, I was hoping to keep the good copies. It was just an act to impress the pretty girls, which they dropped as soon as they got to the car.

This explains why they are so cranky when they get home. They use up their quota of good during the day at camp.

Monday, May 15, 2006

Weather Karma
To all the friends and family in New England that gave me that, "I could NEVAH live in Flahrida with all those huhricanes," and all that happy horseshit:
How do you all like your new indoor pools? What? Can't hear me? Swim closer! Across the backyard! That's it!

I'll take 10 days of inconvenience every 20 years or so over the 160 months of winter you all suffer during that same amount of time. Never mind the occasional HURRICANE or BLIZZARD or plain ole RAIN that might wash your sorry asses away.

The moral of the story: Shit you say can float right back at you.

Sunday, May 14, 2006

At least the notice on JS now estimates that everything will be up and running tomorrow. I don't know, maybe I'll start cross posting so nothing ever gets lost again. I'm so lost with all my favorite haunts scattered to the wind.
It really was a lovely mother's day for me. Tyler brought me an entire folder filled with cards, stories and other mommy worshipping items. Then he made a vase of fake flowers with pens, fake flowers and a dixie bathroom cup filled with dark red kidney beans. Very shiney, those beans are. He's so excited that I'm actually using the pens. He also made a clear plastic "stained glass" box at daycare. He topped off my day by naming his favorite bathtoy, a whale, after me. No, I was not flattered, though I pretended to be. I don't think he understands why you don't name a whale after someone you LIKE.

Brett wrote a story about what a wonderful mommy I am, gave me a "stained glass" plastic box, and a little tattered card that was damaged during transport (as everything dumped in his black hole of a backpack is)

I love everything they made for me. I just adore my little boys.
I am absolutely, completely bored out of my skull. There's nothing on tv, the kids are behaving, don't feel like cleaning, and I'm tired of playing games.

Oh, and I don't want to work either, since I have a week's worth of checks missing and I think its my post office's fault. None of them should have been on the truck that caught fire last week so now I've got one more place to try to hunt my checks down.
Sheesh... this journalspace being down is getting on my nerves. Granted, I haven't spent much time there recently, but I did decorate it and make it my own. I've been there for three years and I'm just a little bit attached to the site and the people there.

I guess in the meantime, I'll be here *grumble* *grumble*