So today I was sitting with some chick going through some shit that she should have fucking done MONTHS ago and patiently speaking to her in kindergarten English cause that is what you do with fuckers that just cannot understand simple instructions like ‘look at this, comment by this date’ and someone came over and was talking about the wicked storm we had last night.
And I was all ‘what storm’?
And they were all shocked faces and telling me that it was like the storm of the century. And I didn’t hear a damn thing.
Which is kinda ironic or weird or something cause I was up and down all damn night on WEEK TWO of Boo not sleeping begging him to go to fucking sleep already and turn down Blues Clues cause if I hear fucking Mr Salt and Mrs Pepper and their little illegitimate sprog Paprika (I can totally rag on illegitimacy cause all my kids are bastards cause who wants to spring for professional photos of your kids when you can just roll it all into one in the wedding photos and it works out way cheaper) talk about making a fucking banana sundae one more fucking time I am going to put my head through the fucking wall.
AND I heard him going into the family room and playing Footloose.
AND I heard him in the fridge looking for the left over hot dogs.
But a storm? Nup. Nothing. Nada. Must have been comatose on the floor in the hallway or half on the bed or like that one time I fell asleep sitting on the loo…
Anywho, this chick turned to me and was all ‘I am so glad I don’t have your life’
*insert look of utter disdain here*
‘I mean, you have so much to deal with! I couldn’t do it.’
I did the usual ‘oh yes you would, yada yada yada’ but the fucker just kept going and going and then I started getting a twitch in my eye that totally made me look like I was winking and the mail guy was all ‘Hey Kelley, how you doin’?’ and I had to spend the day avoiding eye contact in case someone got the wrong idea and now the twitch has got so bad that I totally look like a pirate which would be kinda awesome under different circumstances.
PS – I didn’t actually say ‘fucking’ to my child. I might have muttered it under my breath but he wouldn’t have heard me over the ‘Bowl! Icecream! Banana! Whipped cream! Sprinkles! Spoon!’ coming from the tv.
PPS – and after she said that I kicked her in the neck with my stiletto
PPS – actually I didn’t. But I totally could have but didn’t because I was wearing a skirt and I am a lady.
{ 26 comments }
No Fucking Way!!!
We are watching that fucking exact episode of Blues Clues as I read your blog.
That is waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay to freaky for me.
Are our children linked by some weird mind thing to cause us maximum insanity???
OH MY FUCKING GOD!
Whatever you do DO NOT teach them how to put a particular scene on loop. I don’t know how to do it but Boo does and has had that scene playing over and over since yesterday morning.
The Boyfriend was all ‘please make it stop’ and left early last night. Hmmmm, maybe it ain’t so bad after all.
I still can’t figure out how to get the damn TV to work with the computer set up and all but the girls can and do.
At least I know where the power point is if things get desperate.
Just arch one eyebrow and say “And I’m so glad I don’t have yours”. Or possibly, “So is my family”. Cow. (Not you, your skirt-wearing lady pirate awesomeness, the one who couldn’t follow simple instructions and certainly couldn’t do what you do with such aplomb).
I do that. I wake up if my mum runs a tap, or flushes the loo, or if someone else does something whilst I’m asleep. One day, my next-door-bitch, I mean, neighbours, front window was smashed, and her extremely loud alarm rang for an hour and a half. Totally slept through it!
(And you kicked her in your mind. We all know you have ninja powers. We’re waiting.)
I’m flabbergasted that someone would have even half the nads it took to say something like that out loud. Fuck her. Hard.
In the bum.
With something sharp and heated over an open flame.
She sounds nice.
Have her round for tea.
“A little Arsenic in your tea?” nice, Xbox.
My first son sleeps very little. Now that he’s older, (It was hell when he was a baby, HELLLL!!!) I can say “It’s bedtime, but if you like you can stay up and wash the dishes or clean the bathroom?” And HE DOES!!! It’s WONDERFUL!
But. No noises after bedtime. That’s the rule. No music (unless it’s mine) no computer. He can read in his bed or somewhere I can’t see him, because I am off duty after bedtime. He seems to understand this. Or maybe he has a subconscious memory of me thinking about strangling him as a toddler.
Ah, if only Boo understood such rules. But I like Xbox’s suggestion. Wouldn’t that be nice?
Although if you did, and she had a ‘sleepover’ she would totally raise her Kelley worship to the max, and would like, um, offer to be a respite carer, and um, ..um, …I’ll stop daydreaming now.
Hoping for a quiet night soon, hon
Oh thanks .. now I have these visions of girl pirates running around in my head – and they all look like you – with a patch over one eye – my, that’s a cute tattoo – and they’re not wearing much clothing – obviously – if I can see THAT tattoo – but they’re all better at swords than me. Great. AGAIN I don’t get any.
Now that you mention it, little Paprika doesn’t look at all like Mr. Salt.
You know Paprika has a sibling named Cinnamon, right? I hate that fucking show and am so glad LW has outgrown it.
I would have taken off the stiletto and stabbed her in the neck. That way you can still look like a lady.
Next time just slip the stiletto off and wing it at her like a Chinese star…I mean you ARE a Ninja, right?
hehehehe… such is life eh…
LOL
Stilletos to the neck… I can’t shake this image from my head!!!
I.am.reading. your post in my office and get to the illegitimate sprog and bundling the photos WITH the wedding and I am peeing my pants laughing and making a way big ole mess on my self.
You’re nuts.
sometimes when i’m reading peoples lips
the stupid fuckers get all “why are you staring at my lips, do you want to kiss me or something”
yeah.
OR SOMETHING.
anyway.
if you do ever kick someone in the neck with stiletto i totally want to see the photo.
Kelly the rest assured, downright positive knowledge that you are a bonafied leedy is the only thing saving you from me sending the local priests after you for an exorcism. But, you are safe.
For the time being…
Nail that chicks eyelids open and she can share in your life.
When I want someone to comment on a paper by a certain date, I usually include an extract in the email like:
“In her most recent article, (insert relevant incompetent’s name here) hypothesized that (insert super-brain’s name here) was profoundly incorrect in his landmark paper….”
Helps to pop it in a few paras of the actual doc too to make sure they’ve read the whole thing.
Bitch should be thankful you were wearing a skirt that day.
OMG, Blues Clues repetitively here too. We would sing to each other “Don’t give up, just go on” and other little gems.
As for the total insensitive biartch, may I share that I was interviewing this woman for respite care and as well as sounding overly judging on the fact we homeschooled and allowed playstation, kept saying “oh, you poor thing, the stress, having TWO boys with the condition” and the clincher was “what a shame, if they did have their condition, you could put them in school and get a job and earn some money.”
To which I sweetly replied “Even if they were in a school I wouldn’t get a job, I am lucky enough that I don’t have to work as my husband earns enough for the two of us.”
I tell ya Woodstock, after about 10, you won’t feel a thing and you won’t care.
awwww Kelley,, WS is recommending you come drink with me!! lol
Thought you weren’t allowed to wear stilettos anymore………
Yep, I am. Go round to B’s, sink a few Woodstock, listen to Bon Jovi, watch the PSLS play with the puppy.
Find your Nirvana. It won’t smell like Teen Spirit.
OMG. Mr Salt and Mrs Pepper? Shovel and Pail (did you know it’s Bucket and Spade in the UK?)?
They drive me nuts!
Arrrrgghh! Just keep doing it till International Talk like a Pirate Day!
Sweetie, take your shoe off next time. Less exertion and you still get the satisfaction of pummeling that dumb bitch! And as a bonus, you’ll still remain a lady in your pretty skirt.
I simply cannot tell you how pleased I am that my children lived with He-Man and She-Ra and Fraggle Rock. I think if I was a parent today I would have already put some form of bullet or drug deep in my brain…Barney, Winky-Dinky-Pooh-LALA, Blues CLues, Dora….SHUDDER, SHUDDER…the only thing that makes me shudder more is Hannah Montana/Miley Cyrus…BARF!
Give me Bill Nye the Science Guy ANY DAY! Or, even Mister Rogers!
Comments on this entry are closed.