We Need A Pet
Because otherwise my home is going to be overrun with snails, roly-poly bugs, ants and God knows what other critters my son decides would be better suited in his bedroom than under that rotting log...
Help Me.
In other news, Yard Sale-itis has overtaken the household. Even Bob's into it, pulling out this or that weird plastic piece of crap that some other lucky kid might end up with if he pulls it out of the "free" box. Is it wrong that I'm selling my first engagement ring for five bucks? (Life Lesson #516--Do Not allow him to purchase your engagement ring with funds from a loan you are both paying for, especially if you allow him to talk you into something with almost no resale value.)
I'm supposed to be doing step aerobics right now, but I don't wanna. There's more stuff in the basement I could be going through and hauling upstairs for the sale pile, but I don't wanna. I've taken in the waist on a pair of Bob's new shorts that are too big (despite coming from the Toddler Section--for chrissake, don't tell HIM that), and I've got a load of my laundry in the wash, and I think that's about as far as I'm going to get this evening. I just can't muster the energy to do anything else. I think it's a good night for a shower, a clean t-shirt and granny panties, a Southern Comfort and Diet Pepsi, and American Idol.
Oh, yeah, babe. This is living.
Help Me.
In other news, Yard Sale-itis has overtaken the household. Even Bob's into it, pulling out this or that weird plastic piece of crap that some other lucky kid might end up with if he pulls it out of the "free" box. Is it wrong that I'm selling my first engagement ring for five bucks? (Life Lesson #516--Do Not allow him to purchase your engagement ring with funds from a loan you are both paying for, especially if you allow him to talk you into something with almost no resale value.)
I'm supposed to be doing step aerobics right now, but I don't wanna. There's more stuff in the basement I could be going through and hauling upstairs for the sale pile, but I don't wanna. I've taken in the waist on a pair of Bob's new shorts that are too big (despite coming from the Toddler Section--for chrissake, don't tell HIM that), and I've got a load of my laundry in the wash, and I think that's about as far as I'm going to get this evening. I just can't muster the energy to do anything else. I think it's a good night for a shower, a clean t-shirt and granny panties, a Southern Comfort and Diet Pepsi, and American Idol.
Oh, yeah, babe. This is living.
posted by Mitzi Green at 6:30 PM
6 Comments:
"I think it's a good night for a shower, a clean t-shirt and granny panties, a Southern Comfort and Diet Pepsi, and American Idol."
Hell yeah, me too. Except the Diet Pepsi part. Just give me straight Southern Comfort.
Hell, why not jazz up the SoCo with some Amaretto, Sloe Gin and orange juice and watch in style (gotta love the 'Slammer')
'no more pets' wants a pet?! I find that funny.
mpps--yeah, now "no more pets" literally means we have no more pets...
Oh, and about the pet? How about a psychotic corgi. I will totally FedEx him to you.
A shot of tequila over here :-)
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