With Age Comes EVIL!
So, as I do my rendition of the proverbial headless chicken these days (Donna however did you raise 4 kids, work full time, and keep a perfect house???), it occurs to me that I have become totally evil...
case 1: it snowed a little last sunday. I shoveled it. So when it snowed Tuesday, I didn't help out. At all. Even though the storm was 3x as bad. Instead, I played candy crush. And bejeweled blitz. and zuma. rewind, replay.
case 2: I ate Stinky's pizza. Friday night, after trekking home from work, I took Moth to a Christmas program at our church. Stinky didn't want to go. So. He stayed home and ordered himself a pizza, paid for with his dog-sitting money. Yesterday, between chopping out the ice at the end of our driveway before the next storm (that's god's revenge for case 1 - John doesn't believe in doing driveway ends) and baking cookies for Moth's piano party and cleaning and doing laundry and doing work (! yes work!) on the computer, I needed fuel. I ate the last 1.5 slices of Stinky's pizza. Never mind that Dad ate 3.5 slices. Stinky rolls into the house at around 3:30, hungry and ready to eat his (now extinct) pizza. When he complained, I laughed. A big-bellied Mwa Ha Ha laugh. I said to him: now you know what it's like to come home, looking forward to eating something, only to find it GONE!
case 3: I have done NO Christmas shopping this year. NONE. My kids are, at this point, getting nothing. They think I'm kidding when I say that. I'm not. I had planned on going today, but we have an inch of ice outside. And I can't drive well under good conditions. Now, those in the know... and I really hope Stinky doesn't read this... know that we have a BIG surprise for Christmas this year. But. There are NO presents involved, except recycled ones.
case 4: Stinky wanted to sleep in today. Moth was up and a-bouncin. So, Dad sends him up to wake the stinks (I am not alone in my evil - we are, both of us, champion enablers of evil-doing) by playing piano. So, he just starts pounding away, and to me it sounds like he's channeling Don Music after he's decided he'll NEVER GET IT. I say so, aloud, only then realizing that it's actually a real song, and he really was trying to play it correctly.
Alas, Mother, Wife, Housekeeper, and Teacher of the year award are headed my way. Sometime soon. After all, it snowed in Egypt this week, and I expect the geneticists to breed pigs with wings any day now.
(*)>
case 1: it snowed a little last sunday. I shoveled it. So when it snowed Tuesday, I didn't help out. At all. Even though the storm was 3x as bad. Instead, I played candy crush. And bejeweled blitz. and zuma. rewind, replay.
case 2: I ate Stinky's pizza. Friday night, after trekking home from work, I took Moth to a Christmas program at our church. Stinky didn't want to go. So. He stayed home and ordered himself a pizza, paid for with his dog-sitting money. Yesterday, between chopping out the ice at the end of our driveway before the next storm (that's god's revenge for case 1 - John doesn't believe in doing driveway ends) and baking cookies for Moth's piano party and cleaning and doing laundry and doing work (! yes work!) on the computer, I needed fuel. I ate the last 1.5 slices of Stinky's pizza. Never mind that Dad ate 3.5 slices. Stinky rolls into the house at around 3:30, hungry and ready to eat his (now extinct) pizza. When he complained, I laughed. A big-bellied Mwa Ha Ha laugh. I said to him: now you know what it's like to come home, looking forward to eating something, only to find it GONE!
case 3: I have done NO Christmas shopping this year. NONE. My kids are, at this point, getting nothing. They think I'm kidding when I say that. I'm not. I had planned on going today, but we have an inch of ice outside. And I can't drive well under good conditions. Now, those in the know... and I really hope Stinky doesn't read this... know that we have a BIG surprise for Christmas this year. But. There are NO presents involved, except recycled ones.
case 4: Stinky wanted to sleep in today. Moth was up and a-bouncin. So, Dad sends him up to wake the stinks (I am not alone in my evil - we are, both of us, champion enablers of evil-doing) by playing piano. So, he just starts pounding away, and to me it sounds like he's channeling Don Music after he's decided he'll NEVER GET IT. I say so, aloud, only then realizing that it's actually a real song, and he really was trying to play it correctly.
Alas, Mother, Wife, Housekeeper, and Teacher of the year award are headed my way. Sometime soon. After all, it snowed in Egypt this week, and I expect the geneticists to breed pigs with wings any day now.
(*)>
posted by birdwoman | 9:46 AM
2 Comments:
You don't have to go shopping - that's what Amazon is for.
Poor kiddo, wanting to sleep in and getting foiled by his own family. Muahaha!
Amazon does not do what I needed. I'll explain in the post-christmas post that might come out in, oh, May. Hey, you can't expect me to write more than 3 new things in a year, right?
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