I should probably post this over at PMS Chronicles but frankly I'm too lazy to at this point. Is it wrong that I am eating chips and dip for a second time today? As a meal? Or how about the fact that I continue to wipe my greasy fingers off on my bloated belly?
I don't think so.
Well, okay, maybe the belly wiping of the greasy digits is a bit much but fuck you.
That literally sums up my general mood at present. My poor children are being alternately mothered by Joan Crawford and June Cleaver. Case in point, Rhett, who is 3, and I went to the grocery story tonight and upon coming home, after dark, he slipped and fell on the ice. It was a small tumble but still I did feel bad for the poor little guy and also had my arms full of groceries.
Initial Reaction: "Are you okay, Baby?"
Yes, I call him Baby. We all do. He is soft and he is a Baby and despite his monstrous size I suspect he will always be Baby. Much like Frances in Dirty Dancing except he won't end up whoring it up at a family resort. We can't afford trips like that.
Rhett said no he wasn't okay and whined a little bit and slowly got up.
June: "Come on Loving, when we get inside Mommy will snuggle you".
He then proceeded to move very slowly and ask me about watching Caillou. I am still holding all the groceries and like that, Estrogen reared it's ugly head...
Joan: HURRY UP AND GET IN THE HOUSE!!!! NOW!
June (guiltily): "And then we can snuggle".
I'm sure at this point he was looking forward to snuggling about as much as one would a cavity search.
Also during this evening's sojourn I called home, twice, in an effort to have my grocery list read over the phone to me as it was an unexpected grocery store visit and I didn't have it with me. I spoke to both my oldest son and my husband like one speaks to those they deem less than sharp and seethed when neither of them could find the list. I knew EXACTLY where it was and told them EXACTLY where to find it. I could not believe their stupidity in not being able to find one goddamn piece of paper that I was thoroughly convinced was right in front of there stupid non-seeing eyes.
Then I got home.
And found it.
Buried underneath a notebook, a section of the newspaper and various other things. On top of a box.
I told them to look on the kitchen counter and/or table.
Which is pretty much what I said as I giggled.
One last thing on the good news front, I purchased a pair of nylons tonight. I'm not sure when I last wore any but I plan on wearing a skirt to an event I'm hosting tomorrow evening and thought it best to pick up a pair. And this is just so fucking great; I'm really excited to tell you! Since the last time I bought a pair, I've gone up a letter. Which is like going up a size. Super terrific. I am now a letter of the Alphabet (nylons are like bras in that they are sized alphabetically) that I used to mock. Pity, even. Well, look who's laughing now.
Lastly, there is not enough chocolate in the free world right now (my house) to satisfy my needs.