Sneaky Girl

"Baby, why's your tongue black?"

"It's lollipop, momma."

the Mr.

There aren't that many things that really gross me out.  Actually, it takes a lot to make me sick to my stomach.  But there are a few things that the Mr. does around the house that make me cringe.  It's a short list, but a list it be.  Here goes:
      
1.  Rips nails off of himself and leaves them for me to find.

        (on one occasion, I found a nail in Thing 2's mouth when she was just about a year old)

2.  Drinks from the carton.

            (I know, I know.  I've heard it a thousand times.  Most men do it, right?  I kiss you so it's okay, right? 

            Wrong buddy.  Especially when I catch you when you think you're alone.)

3.  Rolls up boogies and flicks them on the floor.

           (He claims that it was just and itch.  Uh, huh. Riiigggghhttt.)

4.  Toots in the car with the windows rolled up.

           (All the while, sitting there, giggling, and waving the stench in my direction with his hand.)

and number

5.  Leaving his dirty socks on the bathroom vanity.

          (can we say, YU-UCK!)

After numerous times of attempting to explain to him why this is so gross, he never fails to surprise me by repeating this action over, and over, and over, and over....

                             

Skinnygirl, take me away!

While I am not a fan of Bethenny Frankel (Real Housewives, right?), I am a fan of margaritas.  And skinny.

Whilst on a quick run to the grocery store to pick up some goods for dinner, I happen to eye this "skinny" little bottle strategically placed by the checkout line at my nearby Albertson's Grocery Store.  Standing tall and pretty among it's conglomerates, I couldn't help but notice.  What creative marketing, I thought.  This skinny silhouette of a girl in a red top and black pencil skirt with a yummy margarita in one hand and shaker in the other, was calling out my name.  "Aaaannnnggggeeeelllllaaaa."  "You know you want to take me home." At least that what I thought I heard her say.  Thus, I did.  And, I forgot to mention that she was on sale from $16.99 down to $13.99.  I know, I know.  A bit steep, but worth a try.

Fast forward a few hours, I decided now was the time for action.  No more screaming, no more crying.  I was just in need of that "Calgon, take me away..." moment.  You know, when your head just needs the rest from the noise within.  Yes, within.  The noise from the outside has suddenly taken over and ever so gently, crept up within.  Nearly driving you mad.  That's where I was today, and needless to say, Skinnygirl helped me through it.  So for next time, I say, "Skinnygirl, take me away...!"

 

Boy, does time fly or what?!

Where or where has all the time gone?  From going about the daily grind to getting a somewhat good night sleep, it has apparently, just, slipped away.  Yep.  Gone.  Disappeared.  Bye-Bye.  For it was just yesterday, or so I thought, that my darling Thing 2 had graced our family with her warm little body and contagious smile.  Just yesterday that my Thing 1 was so reluctant at first to even hold her.  It took her almost and hour, and sure enough, they bonded.  Just like that.  Thing 1 and Thing 2 as I fondly refer to them by.  Sisters and best friends.  They drive each other mad with their constant love.
 
  

Some like it HOT!

Let's just say, sometimes when I multi-task, I can forget about things.  The everyday things that are seemingly insignificant.  Forgetting to put the finished wash in the dryer, forgetting where the heck I put my keys, forgetting to put something in the mail...you catch my drift.  Anyhoo, this morning, after I quickly drew a sudden craving of hard boiled eggs and set aside a proud 18 of them to get ready to take their hot bath, I managed to do it again.  I forgot about them.  After I carefully dunked my eggs into the rolling boil of water and set my timer that I painstakingly stretch my ear out to listen for, I went off to do my morning ritual.  Sitting at the computer with my morning cup o' joe, checking out my daily news/tabloid pages (yes, I am a HUGE celebrity gossip fan!) and catching up on emails with my lovely girls sitting quietly enjoying their morning snack and television (hey!  2 hours a day limit right?! ), I suddenly hear a loud popping noise.  Not the sort of popcorn-popping noise, but a LOUD noise.  LOUD like a bunch of books being slammed on the floor loud.  I asked "thing 1" what "thing 2" was doing upstairs.  Only to recieve a quick quip of "nothing, she's right here, momma."  I decidely run upstairs, and for those who know me, running and me don't mix.  And to my surprise, I had found my precious eggs popped and shattered into mass produced chunks all over the stovetop and floor.  (I will spare you the details of my duck-and-cover attempt with a broomstick to move the pot over and turn off the heat.)  So now, am I not only left with a mess to clean up, but also an empty stomach yearning and craving for my hard-boiled eggs that I was so happily looking forward to.  Yep.  I did it again.