*eyeroll*
I can't actually wrap my head around this weekend in order to construct one complete and/or coherent sentence, so if it's okay with you, I'm just going to bullet point this post. I'll call it Things I Did This Weekend. Or maybe, Good One, Guys, Now Give Me Normal Back.
Someone other than me who is also considered a grown-up in our house left the garage door open. A skunk got in. Then someone other than me who is also considered a grown-up in our house went into the garage. And surprised the skunk. And the skunk sprayed.
I ate bacon covered dates. Not to be confused with that one time when my date brought over two pounds of bacon. These were the food kind of dates. And since no one actually eats dates but everyone eats anything wrapped in bacon that's how I was able to consume them. And they were good.
I went to a Catholic breakfast. Except I'm not Catholic. And now I never, ever want to be Catholic. Because I thought the flag waving was bad enough, but then the lady next to me leaned over and put her hand on my arm (which is incredibly not okay with me because I have serious personal boundary issues) and I looked into her glaucoma-y right eye, felt uncomfortable and then looked into her clear left eye and actually listened while she asked me, "Do you speak in tongues?" To which I replied, "uh...No." And to which she continued, "because I do. I just started." And then she did. She talked in tongues. I'm not exactly sure what 'tongues' is supposed to sound like, but if it's meant to sound like jibberish then this lady was really, really good. And I was really, really scared. Because this was just one situation I was definitely not prepared for. I thought Catholics were kind of boring. And chanted monotone in Latin. This had a deep south revival with sacrificial chickens kind of feel to it.
We finally moved Cletus the Used to be Fetus out of our room. Because he's one now. And it's just kind of creepy to try to get your groove on and have a head pop up and yell out Hi! It especially is cramping to your style when said 1-year old keeps repeating Hi! four hundred and eighty seven times until you engage him in conversation. And I think that's just bizarre to engage in conversation with someone when you're trying to get your groove on with someone else. But since there's no separate bedroom for Cletus we decided to shove him in the Barbie & Bubble Gum pink room with Dotter. The crib was a tad too big to pass through the doorways so we took the doors off. (Note: real wood is real heavy.) And then the crib was still a tad too big to pass through. So Big V busied himself taking the crib apart and then putting it back together again. And then he told me I'm never allowed to buy anything from IKEA ever again.
The Bean was gone all weekend, living the high life with her friend. She came home to explain to me that our house is an embarrassment and she can't have friends over because it's so disgusting and we have to remodel so her friends feel more comfortable. I asked her if we could please discuss this in the bathroom since we all know how well she keeps that area clean so her friends aren't disgusted.
Then there was this little episode that involved my niece and her manipulative ways which reminded me that, yes, a 10-year old can be described as calculating and dangerous.
To say I couldn't wait for my weekend to be over would be an understatement. I just wonder what this week has in store for me. And if I can survive it.
Someone other than me who is also considered a grown-up in our house left the garage door open. A skunk got in. Then someone other than me who is also considered a grown-up in our house went into the garage. And surprised the skunk. And the skunk sprayed.
I ate bacon covered dates. Not to be confused with that one time when my date brought over two pounds of bacon. These were the food kind of dates. And since no one actually eats dates but everyone eats anything wrapped in bacon that's how I was able to consume them. And they were good.
I went to a Catholic breakfast. Except I'm not Catholic. And now I never, ever want to be Catholic. Because I thought the flag waving was bad enough, but then the lady next to me leaned over and put her hand on my arm (which is incredibly not okay with me because I have serious personal boundary issues) and I looked into her glaucoma-y right eye, felt uncomfortable and then looked into her clear left eye and actually listened while she asked me, "Do you speak in tongues?" To which I replied, "uh...No." And to which she continued, "because I do. I just started." And then she did. She talked in tongues. I'm not exactly sure what 'tongues' is supposed to sound like, but if it's meant to sound like jibberish then this lady was really, really good. And I was really, really scared. Because this was just one situation I was definitely not prepared for. I thought Catholics were kind of boring. And chanted monotone in Latin. This had a deep south revival with sacrificial chickens kind of feel to it.
We finally moved Cletus the Used to be Fetus out of our room. Because he's one now. And it's just kind of creepy to try to get your groove on and have a head pop up and yell out Hi! It especially is cramping to your style when said 1-year old keeps repeating Hi! four hundred and eighty seven times until you engage him in conversation. And I think that's just bizarre to engage in conversation with someone when you're trying to get your groove on with someone else. But since there's no separate bedroom for Cletus we decided to shove him in the Barbie & Bubble Gum pink room with Dotter. The crib was a tad too big to pass through the doorways so we took the doors off. (Note: real wood is real heavy.) And then the crib was still a tad too big to pass through. So Big V busied himself taking the crib apart and then putting it back together again. And then he told me I'm never allowed to buy anything from IKEA ever again.
The Bean was gone all weekend, living the high life with her friend. She came home to explain to me that our house is an embarrassment and she can't have friends over because it's so disgusting and we have to remodel so her friends feel more comfortable. I asked her if we could please discuss this in the bathroom since we all know how well she keeps that area clean so her friends aren't disgusted.
Then there was this little episode that involved my niece and her manipulative ways which reminded me that, yes, a 10-year old can be described as calculating and dangerous.
To say I couldn't wait for my weekend to be over would be an understatement. I just wonder what this week has in store for me. And if I can survive it.
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