Yesterday, a series of unfortunate events occurred. Some routine things, like my child had one of those days where she actually did not want to go to school (and right now, school is loosely defined as half-day recess, half-day run amok-a-thon) and I felt fat so I dressed like I am actually fat, and didn’t fix my hair.
But then, I had to take my dad to the ER for a stubborn kidney stone that “is actually really tiny, only about 3mm,” says the ER nurse. I’m pretty sure he didn’t think that it was that tiny. She also kept referring to it as his “baby,” which was funny and disconcerting at the same time. We were discharged with narcotics and a strainer. Now that’s a party.
After that, a thing at work happened, and it is now referred to “the incident that shall not be named” as well as with “he who should not be named.” I’m easily entertained/amused/distracted by Harry Potter references, so if you ever need to cheer me up or start a conversation, or make me love you forever, here’s your sign.
I know it’s been a lot of months since I blogged last. Like, we were wearing sweaters, pants, and all the clothes in our closets back then. And hats. Oh how I love hats.
Let’s recap life since then. My brother and sister-in-law bought their very first home, some people graduated from some schools, Laney graduated from her first year of Kindergarten, my cousin Jack got married AND bought his first house with his wife, Jamie…oh and Jamie went on the Carnival cruise. You know, THAT Carnival cruise.
Last time, I also promised you VIEWER MAIL! Well, here’s a selection of the many gems I received. I will always respond to viewer mail at email@example.com
How can I get my husband to take the trash out? I mean I’ve tried letting it sit there full and then he just puts it in the sink. I’ve tried nagging him. Everything! Please help
Dear Trashy Housewife of the Interweb,
Just a few suggestions: 1. a bigger trash can, 2. trained monkey to take out the trash, 3. slap him, because clearly he is having a visual or processing issue, 4. move to a trash-free life where none of your activities create trash. I hope this helps.
My 4 year old and a 3 year old like to pee at the same time, in the same toilet! If we are with friends, they invite their friends to join them. Any ideas to get them to stop?
Dear Pee Partier,
If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em?
How do I deal with a supervisor that I suspect has a toe fetish? He tells us all not to wear flip flops in the summer.
Dear Flipless in Summer,
Cover them piggies, because unless you want to go down Fatal Attraction style (I hear all toe fetish people are also violent murderers), I’d stay out of harm’s way.
Super bloggyblog’s blogger (PS, just kidding about the toe fetish murderer thing, but if it happens, then no I was not kidding.)
I know this blog was short, but I really needed a quick, creative, cathartic-style release. Next time, maybe there will be an “interesting passive-aggresive signs posted on the refrigerator at work” blog. =D