Have you ever wondered why truth is stranger than fiction? This, and many other topics will never be explored here. You will mostly find half-assed posts about crap I've thought about for 2 seconds. (I really need to work on my promotion skills.)

Sunday, April 18, 2010

Idle Hands



Today I'm resting from a week of slowly dying.  I usually sit around for a good span of time on my days off, but I have a problem with sitting in one place for too long.  I get twitchy.  Today I'm not giving myself any excuses though.  I've been pushing myself too hard all week and now this is the result whether I like it or not.  So this is how my day has gone (any gaps of time between events are filled with mindless internet surfing or napping):

6:40 - Wake up and make coffee.  I'm about to enjoy a cup when my son wakes up.  Mr. A creaks downstairs with him and then yells, "TAKE HIM!"  Apparently he has worn a misshapen groove in his side of the bed and it's causing him to sleep in the shape of a letter K.

7:00 - Listen to Mr. A bitch about our mattress.  I stop him every 3 sentences to tell him that he needs to just buy a new one and quit his bitching.  Seriously.

 7:30 - I no longer want my cup of coffee because I could swear I hear bugs in it.  I pour it out and make myself a new cup.

8:45 - Now the bugs are in the air vent.  Or it might be pigeons.  I think they followed me home from work.

9:20 - I thought about doing laundry, but didn't.  I did change my clothes though, but just because my son spilled Cup O' Joe #2 on me and then smeared his face across my chest until I had a rainbow of boogers across my boobs.  I bet Suri Cruise doesn't do that.

9:30 - Watch Spongebob Squarepants and complain about an episode where, at one point, Spongebob and Patrick freak out because they don't have any water.

10:00 - Banish the kids to their bedroom to play.

10:10 - Go upstairs to check on the kids just to find the mattress to my girl's bed laying on the other side of the room.  All of her clothes, books and toys are spread all over the floor.  I just take the kids and go back downstairs.  I feel a small amount of guilt when I do this, because now Mr. A will have to clean this whole mess when he takes the girl up to bed tonight.  Whatever, I'm resting.

11:05 - Take cold medicine.  I don't think I have a cold, but it reduces the symptoms that I have.  The only kind I can stand is the Alka Seltzer Plus Cold (cherry flavor) (not a paid plug), so I'm trying to get this down when I can feel my throat not opening or closing properly.  I think I broke my throat.

11:15 - Put my son down for his nap.  He actually went for it.  It was a pleasant surprise since he usually fakes like he's going to sleep until he gets to the bottom of his bottle, when he jumps up like a jack-in-the-box on crack yelling, "Fooled you, MuthaFucka!!!"  Then he proceeds to try and kill himself for the next 1/2 an hour or so by attempting to dive head-first off of things.  Things like the kitchen table and his playpen.

11:20 - I decide that nap thing the boy is doing looks like fun, so I do the same.  It was just as awesome as it looked.

1:45 - Woken up by a crash.  My daughter decided to smash her special keyboard into the floor.  Apparently she broke off the space bar.  This is unfortunate since most of the games she likes to play use the space as one of the action keys.  Tough luck kiddo.  While all this was going on, I pretended to still be asleep because I didn't want to get up yet.

1:48 - Fell back asleep. 

3:00 - Woke up for good when my kids dumped over their toy box and then my son climbed on top and let out a battle cry.  When I looked over, he was doing a victory dance.  It occurred to me that if a responsible adult didn't make their presence known soon, it might get all Lord Of The Flies up in here.

3:10 - Watched my grandma's 3 lb. Yorkie struggle to make it through the toys to get to the patio door.  I'd feel bad, but I really don't like that dog.  I mean, at 3 lbs., does it really get to call itself a dog?

4:20 - Think about doing some laundry.  Don't.

4:30 - Watch Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs.  Really watch it.  Get mad when I realize I can no longer enjoy it because I have to pick it apart with logic.  Like:
  • Flint's Spray-On Shoes would have probably led to his feet being amputated because they can no longer grow or be cleaned properly.
  • A "laceless alternative foot covering" is already invented.  It's called "every other type of shoe that's not a sneaker."  Just buy yourself some flip flops Flint.
  • There's no way his Monkey Thought Translator would not have made him a bazillionairre.
  • RatBirds is a redundancy.
  • The only member of the news media covering the most spectacular weather phenomenon ever in the history of mankind is an intern from the The Weather Channel (well, the generic cartoon equivalent anyway).
  • Which leads me to wonder why she was there to begin with.  What interest does The Weather Channel have in a theme park opening on a small, obscure island?
  • None of the food ever rots.
  • When the mayor gets bigger he also somehow grows taller.  If it were only that easy.
  • During the scene where we first discover the mayor is getting huge, he has a giant hot dog tucked under his arm.  This is well before the Giant Hotdog Panic scene.
  • There is no way humanly possible for Flint to make that huge Jell-o castle in one night.
  • I'm pretty sure the Jell-o piano shouldn't be making any noise.
  • People are still eating the ice cream even though Steve is clearly throwing around some poo in it.  Frickin' ew.
  • I would not eat in a restaurant where food fell on my head.
I missed the rest of the movie because, unfortunately, my little girl decided to freak out and start throwing things at me.  This caused me to punish her by taking away her "stickers" (temporary tattoos).  That caused her to scream, "NO MAMA.  I WANT MY STICKERS BACK RIGHT NOW!!" for half a damn hour.  I totally ignored her while I was catching up on this post.

Now I have a serious headache and Mr. A and I are trying not to look at each other because we'll laugh at her.  It's actually pretty sad how attached she got to those things in such a short amount of time (they lasted 5 damn days!!), but on the other hand, she's just so overly-dramatic that you can't help it. 

She's just standing there sobbing and telling her dad, "Mama took my fire!  My fire gone!" with the exact same emotion as someone would say, "Someone took my baby!  My baby is gone!"

I know I'm mean for laughing, but laughter is the best medicine and I need all the help I can get right now.

"Knowing is half the battle." - G.I. Joe

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