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Showing posts from April 1, 2012

I'm Pretty Sure I Was Punk'd, But I'm Still Waiting For The Camera Crew For Confirmation

She walked in briskly, elegantly swiping her sunglasses off her face... I would have surely caught myself in the nostril.... "I'm not sure if I'm in the right place. My husband sent me here to get a copy of our home inspection."

I felt instantly frumpy. Me in my oversized cardigan because the office temperature is impossible to regulate and well worn loafers; her in skinny jeans and expensive Coach Marlena boots. I sucked in my gut. Well, we don't really do home inspections, but we do have files for any building projects you may have done. Are you maybe looking for inspection reports from a remodel job?

"Those look delicious."

Excuse me?

*points to desk at oversized bag of Cool Ranch Doritos that I've been mowing down occasionally munching on*  "I'm dieting. Everything looks delicious when I'm dieting."

Oh. *awkward laugh while I suck in gut further* So, let's pull the file and see what's there.

"I don't want to wast…

And THIS Would Be Why It's Important To Complete Your Homework

I remember Big V laughing - one of those real, deep, rowdy laughs - when he told me about how his mother did his homework for him. I remember tilting my head to the side (which happens to be the international sign for do you seriously think this will impress me?) and squinting my eyes (mostly because I have this awful habit of squinting my eyes so it looks like I'm pissed off all. the. time., but also because my contacts were about 3 months past their daily wash & wear expiration date).

"I'm sorry, did you just say your mom did your homework?"

"Yeah, well it's not like I had a lot...."

Thus the introduction to the amazing childhood of the Big V began. He played sports! He was great at sports! He could catch a football! He could dribble a basketball! And he could probably do many more sports-like activity with amazing skill and accuracy but since I could care less about anything that involves people hurling objects at another human being I really did…

The Case of the Missing Shirt

The shirt is a dance uniform shirt. Needed for an upcoming performance. A dance performance. That my 10-year old daughter has with an entire dance team. Thus the necessity for a matching shirt. You know, to look like a team. And so they all wear the same shirt. A special ordered shirt. That we can't find.

It started with a text: we can't find it.

Find what? the shirt.

What shirt? the shirt i need for our performance on April 14th.

Oh shit.

And so I texted back to the 10-year old daughter whose shirt was missing: look in your room. everywhere. under everything, through everything, in everything.

Half hour later, a response: we still can't find it.

Not finding it is not acceptable.

Not finding it means not performing.

Not finding it means you think you feel like crap now? Wait until you have to fess up to your instructor, who you're pretty sure hates you and will certainly hate you when she finds out you lost your shirt.

Not finding it means you'd better wipe thos…