Deep breath, deep breath, deep breath. It’ll grow back. Whatever it looks like, it’s okay. It’s just hair. Agghhhh, but that’s not how I feel. It’s not JUST hair!! Zoey has the most awesome hair. I mean I know I’m a smidge biased, but seriously, I would KILL for hair like hers.
It started out like any other morning. The hubby and I lay (lied???) in bed trying to fend off the kids who woke up too early like they always do.
Okay, so now that Zoey is in kindergarten I have to pack her lunch for school, which is like the hardest thing on earth because she doesn’t eat jack shit. Well, she eats peanut butter but we can’t pack that because it might kill a kid, and I’m not really into killing children. Well, besides my own when they’re acting like douchenuggets.
Anyways, every day I comb through the cabinets desperately searching for something healthy Zoey will actually eat, as if something magical is going to pop up that I didn’t think of for the past three weeks. Oh I know, veggie straws!!! Yeah, those are healthy because they have pictures of real vegetables on the package. Not.
ME: Holden, what do you want for your birthday?
HOLDEN: A dragon.
ME: No way, buddy, he’ll breathe fire all over us!
HOLDEN: Nooo, a NICE dragon.
ME: No such thing. Pick something else.
HOLDEN: A bunk bed.
Eeeks, really? But he’s looking up with me with those adorable puppy dog eyes and damn it, why does he have to be so stinkin’ cute?! Okay, fine, a bunk bed it is. A huge, hard-to-make, hard-to-put-together, expensive thing he’s gonna roll out of and break his arm or his leg or his neck. Awesome.
After searching for hours and hours online (not really because I’m watching Bachelor in Paradise and only looking down at my computer every ten minutes), I find a couple of good ones.
Dear parents who totally suck and should be ashamed of themselves,
Yeah, I heard about what you did. One of my readers sent me an email telling me allllll about it, and I am mortified by your behavior. Seriously, un-flippin’-believable. But I’m not a total jerkwad and I know there are two sides to every story, so let me just make sure I understand your whole situation. This is what she told me happened.
She signed up her seven-year-old boy to play on a coed soccer team. Cool.
OMFG, I am SOOOOO excited!!! It’s like Target came to my room one night, saw me down on my knees and decided to literally answer my prayers. Did you hear about this?! Supposedly Target is building a new store in Chicago WITH A BAR IN IT!!!! Eeeeeks!! Yup, as in you can walk up to a counter, order a martini and then try your best not to spill it as you run around the store like a crazy person yelling, “I am shopping in the best store on earth with a martini in my hand!!!!!”
I mean yeah, I’m a little bit frightened about allllll the shit I’m gonna buy when I’m wasted, but A. I can always return shit when I’m sober. And B. Target really doesn’t sell bad shit. They sell awesome shit I’m going to be glad I bought. I mean really the only person who should be upset about this and marching outside their headquarters with a protest sign is my hubby because as soon as I can legally drink in Target, he is so F’ed. No I’m sorry honey, we can’t afford electricity this month because Target has a bar now!!
Okay, can we talk? And by we I mean me because this is my blog so that means I talk until the comments section where you can decide whether you want to say something nice like “heyyy, this post is totally awesome” or something doucehbaggy like “wahhhh, I lost my funny bone and now I just sit behind my computer screen and virtually rain on people’s parades all day,” even though really our parade is still happily marching along and we’re laughing at annoying but entertaining trolls like you. But I digress.
Anyways, shoot, what was I going to talk about? Oh yeah, the first day of school. Wait, not even the first day. The day before the first day of school. The day they call meet-the-teacher day.
ZOEY: Mom, this car is super messy. You should clean it.
ME: Excuse me?
Let’s just say she’s lucky she‘s lucky I didn’t make her lick it clean because I was tempted to. Anyways, this is the story of my life. My family hardly ever notices anything I do for them and then when I don’t do it good enough, they’re like WTF Mom? I mean no, they’re not total a-holes, but OMG, sometimes they are so ungrateful it kills me.
ZOEY: What’s for dinner? Ewwww, chicken.
Okay, so yesterday I was sitting with my college roomie and she’s about to have her first baby and I am sooooooo excited for her. But that bitch isn’t finding out whether they’re having a boy or a girl. Aggghhhhh!!! How can you do this to me?!!! I mean how am I supposed to buy your child all sorts of adorable stuff if I don’t know what you’re having?
And yeah, I know what you’re gonna say. Just buy us green and yellow shit. Well, I’m sorry, but the green and yellow stuff just isn’t as cute, so I’m saving my money and sending you a bunch of pink or blue shit when IT’s born. See? By not finding out what you’re having I even have to offend your baby and call it an “it.”
Agghhhh, so we went camping this weekend and holy shit, allllllll night long someone was waking us up. First it was my friend’s kid who was like wahhhhhh, I have to go to the bathroom. Then it was Zoey who was like wahhhhh, I can’t sleep. But little did I know who would keep me up the longest wasn’t a kid at all.
At 2AM when I had finally fallen asleep, imagine me waking up to this sound.
Dear lady I just saw breastfeeding at a restaurant,
Really? Do you seriously have to pick the table right in front of me so I have to stare at you the whole time you do THAT? I mean yeah, I guess I could pick up and move to a different table, but F that, I was here first.
And now I have to sit here staring at you breastfeeding for God knows how long because you insist on doing it in public. And here’s why I think that is so wrong.