Tag Archives: humor

NAP ABORTED, RED ALERT!!

Tonight’s giant dirty martini is brought to you by a toddler who skipped his nap at school today and will scream about anything.
Anything.
This has included,(but is, I am sure, not limited to,):
wanting to see daddy
wanting daddy to go away
books that don’t sing (WTF does that mean!?)
corn touching his jello
being inside
being outside
sitting
standing
corn being on his plate at all
Thomas the tank engine (ok, he makes me want to cry too)
the possibility of “Pot Pot” (the dog) touching any toys
having to toot
having JUST tooted
his shoes
the color yellow
where did my corn go?
and finally, of course, being looked at by anyone for any reason.

Let us make this one a double, shall we?
Cheers. (Sleep tight Jr. Tomorrow will be better.)

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Worst. Ninja. EVER. Just Sayin’.

If any sort of hidden camera footage existed of me doing my “cough syrup ninja” maneuver into Jr’s room to slip him a dose that (hopefully) kicks in BEFORE he wakes up, it would be youtube viral nerdtastic gold.
Medicine syringe dropper between teeth like Pepe le Pew with a rose for his love; flannel pants hitched  WAY up to avoid tripping on them; GiGi the Samsung Galaxy on “Brightest Flashlight” stuffed in my bra, causing my chest to glow a la  E.T. to give me enough light to administer said medication without rousing Jr from his semi-fitful coughing slumber; creeping tip-toe walk that would probably scare the sick right out of him if he DID happen to wake up and see the nut-job sneaking toward him…

Sure, it gets the job done, but I make Inspector Clouseau look like a master ninja.
Just Sayin’.

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Why Birds ACTUALLY Appear. Just Sayin’.

Dear Mr., if I don’t remember watching this episode of “Camp,” it’s because of the 17 head-butts I received during bedtime stories. Also, I feel compelled to inform you -just in case I start speaking without vowels or something – I kind of taste pennies, smell toast, and hear The Carpenters when I tilt my head to the left…. But I’m sure it’s fine.

Just Sayin’.

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Hanker for a hunk a. Just Sayin’.

image

There is not nearly enough blue cheese on my salad to offset the way my day is going.

Actually,  combating this crap would call for a wedge, maybe even a wheel the size of a dining table at this point.

Being caught at the office with a rationed cheese supply is HORRIFYING.
I can’t go on.

Just Sayin’.

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Careful shmareful. Just Sayin’.

Telling a toddler to “be careful” is like telling the sun to be purple, or a dog to be a bus driver.
I keep saying it, he keeps climbing the EVERYTHING, and we might as well be from different planets.
I’m pretty sure I sound like the Swedish Chef, or the adults in a Charlie Brown special to his tiny ears.  Noises are coming at him, but they don’t mean anything.

Just Sayin’.

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