Thursday, January 3, 2013

The tale of a day gone wrong...

Yesterday was a day for the record books. It just seemed like one thing after another kept on happening. Whoops, it did.

The morning started out awesome with a car that wouldn't start. The damn thing is paid off and technically still under warranty so I shouldn't bitch too much. I could go get it fixed BUUT that would mean that I would have to clean it out. That mother-effer is nasty. I could easily pick the toys and the rotten McDonald's out maybe wipe some crayon off the doors, it would look better. But if you really look at that beast....Oh hell, a description would make you want to run to your car clean it out, buy ugly frilly little hangy shit to organize your car and possibly ruin you from the joy of having a cup of coffee and pastry in your own car while sitting in the drop off lane at school. We will leave it at, if it were a home that sob would be condemned, fumigated and quite possibly burned to the ground for the possibility of disease.

The finally car started and the kids and I made it to the wondrous land of Wal-Mart. Just walking in I am irritated. Irritated by the lights. Irritated that the person walking in at the same time as me was looking at my kids counting them. Irritated that a mother walking out was wearing real clothes and high heeled boots, like she is better than the rest of us bitches who wear tennis shoes with our jeans. I did quite enjoy when her child jumped off the side of her cart and she had to chase him. I so wanted her to fall. I'm evil I know, but I think she learned her lesson. It turned out the lady counting my kids was really nice, she was the youngest of 6 and  her family is now spread throughout the country so she likes to see big families, it brings back memories. Surprisingly, not everyone you meet at Wal-mart would throw you in the back of their pickup and tie you up with fishing line and gag you with a crushed can of Keystone. We got our crap, the kids were good.

I thought I would try my luck at another store, the beauty store. The kids were not bad. They touch things and make fun of it or goof off. They won't intentionally break things or be malicious they just goof around. Which, as an adult I do the same damn thing. You do too, especially when shopping with friends. But for a kid it is socially unacceptable. People have this dipshit notion kids should be seen, not heard and that if a kid touches something they are either a) going to break it or b) going to steal it. I hate people for this, but it is what it is. The lady at the store saw they were just goofing off and watched and laughed without that "I am going to catch you" eye. I bought some hair dye, I had low lights about a month ago, I do every November because the sun bleaches my hair like crazy but in the winter I have roots the 80's would want, so I have to even it out. Well apparently with this pregnancy my hair is getting DARK, not the dirty blonde it usually does- almost brown. My eyebrows are still light so I have to color them in. Every morning I feel like a damn clown coloring in my eyebrows and when I sweat or wipe one off I look like a fucking goon. Anyway...

I went out to get my hair cut.  My hair was down to my waist it was always getting caught or sat on or pulled and people thought I was Mormon. I have so many kids they think I am some creepy religion- exactly why I never wear a skirt too. I used to wear cute sundresses with flip-flops, I was stopped so many times and asked if I knew that family who had so many children or if I was their same religion and that was when the Duggar's just did the one-hour specials. Back to the facts...So I took two kids with me #2 and #5, they were well behaved. I left the other two with the teen. She is old enough to babysit, took the damn class, baysits other people's kids all the time, and even watches her siblings while I run a quick errand. Just like any other day I left only two with her. I had this sweet lady cut my hair, she was fantastic the oldest of 8 and just had a son over the summer. I loved her. Usually my cousin cuts my hair but I just couldn't deal anymore I wanted it done THAT SECOND. Believe it or not folks, I am not wearing this pregnancy well.

I looked at my phone after the cut...16 test messages from the teen. Oh shit, a picture is now coming through. WHAT THE FUCK. Number 3 has a gash on his head. Son of a bitch, seriously! Apparently they were playing football in the house, 3 like always was being way too competitive and from there details get sketchy... 3 says 4 pushed him because he was mad. 4 and 1 have the same story of they were "wrestling" over the ball and he was accidentally pushed into the outside corner of the wall. Either way, it was 2 hours, 75 dollars, and three staples. The evening ended up with a major talk about playing fairly, why we are not allowed to play ball in the house and how even if someone is an asshole you still can't push them. And 4 had to be 3's servant for the night. Like I said, a day for the record books...

12 comments:

  1. I so remember those days! We have 3 boys...now men, but when they were 10, 11, and 12 until they were out of their teens, it was a hell of a ride!

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    1. Did they tackle and wrestle constantly and pick at each other to the point you were annoyed at them like they were your sibling?

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  2. Maybe today will go smoother? And I feel you on the winter roots... I hate that!

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  3. Shit. That's worth giving a reality tv show producer a call. Sorry, but I would be glued to the TV watching your family!! Watch out honey boo boo Ashley's crew is gonna get you...

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    1. Ha!I already have enough haters from this blog. Imagine the ruckus I could cause with a television camera....mwahaha!

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  4. Perhaps you're getting all the bad stuff out of the way? For the next decade?

    Hope things go smoother. SOON.

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    1. Ha! Thanks, usually it is just one day of total choas and calm from then on out

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  5. You're f*cking brilliant. why didn't I think of turning a kid into a servant as punishment? You've so inspired my next blog.

    p.s. Next time, spill a little dishwasher liquid on the Wal-mart floor to help a b*tch in heels out. Just sayin'.

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  6. Man, that was at least a week's worth of drama. Screw the haters. You know you are hilarious. I hope #3 is feeling better. All I can hear in my head is Carol Brady yelling, "Don't play ball in the house!"
    The story of your car reminds me to clean out the Arby's Chocolate turnover I inhaled yesterday. And the day before that..

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    1. Ha! Maybe I should make a rule of no playing ball in the house, at least not tackle football! But even if I made the rule enforcing it would suck, sliding down the hardwood floor is actually pretty fun!
      If only my car had a half eaten chocolate turnover... I am fairly certain we are now immune to numerous diseases from the amount of bacteria in my beast...

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