Wednesday, June 1, 2011

I confess....

• I confess that it is 8:39am and I’m done with my work for the day already. Shitballs. Looks like the budgeting and list-making and color-coding and mundane filing will reach a whole new level today.


• I confess that though I’d love to confess I’m not insecure….I am. Thursday of last week I had nearly black hair. By Friday afternoon, courtesy of highlights – I’m nearly blonde. My mother – who is a beautician – never noticed…and I confess it bothered me. However, a guy at work walked into my office and said, “What did you do to your hair?” AND he made a face like I had snakes coming out of my eyes. I said, “Gee – don’t you like it?” He had the balls to say, “I’m not saying that.” I said – “You didn’t have to – your face said it for you.” He said he was just messing with me and he probably was BUT for the love of St. Peter – don’t mothers teach men how to give or NOT give compliments?

• I confess I work with another jackass who saw me walking towards him and looked down at my foot – which has 4 colorful ladybugs tattooed on it and then he said, “Your foot is just funny looking.” I wanted to say "so is your face" but instead I said, “I guess you don’t like my ladybugs.” He just continued with, “They are just funny looking.” For the love of Satan’s dick – have you ever heard of “if you can’t say something nice – don’t say anything at all???” As a side note – this guy is raising 3 little boys. Can’t wait to see how that turns out.

• I confess I’m not a fan of other people’s kids. You know how some people love kids – all kids, everyone’s kids, even Satan’s kids? Well – that isn’t me. I love my kids and I love Jenny’s kids. That’s it for my kid-loving abilities. It doesn’t even matter if they are cute. I’m just sooo done with “little” kids.

I had to watch the neighbor kids this weekend. They are twin 3 year olds. At one point, they wanted to go home and started trucking back to their house. I told them to come back since their mom wasn’t home and they both – as if on cue – started screaming at the top of their lungs. Me? Well I wanted to get out the duct tape and well you know – stop the screaming and put them in a closet for the rest of the day.

• I confess I nearly killed the other neighbor kid that same day. My 10 year old came in to me and said, “Mom, Maggie pooped in our toilet and now it’s plugged and I have to go.” First I threw up. Then I ran away. I just don’t understand why God taunts me with poop when he knows how much I hate it. And this wasn’t family poop – which magnifies it’s grossness by tenfold. And yes - if you recall - this kid has done this before in MY toilet.  So yup – toilet overflowing – towels everywhere…me cursing the neighbor kids bowels until finally I called Rambo at the prison and said, “You’re coming home right? Cuz we got a serious issue.” I left the bathroom and shut the door and put up police tape….it was gonna wait for Rambo.

• I confess that if I was given a choice between Botox for making my armpits stop over-sweating or getting rid of my migraines – I’d pick the armpits. I can’t help it – it’s true.

• I confess that though my pink shoes are to die for cute – my feet look like a bandaged war vet. I kid you not – each foot so far has 3 band-aids on it and did I mention it’s not even 9am yet? Let’s hope this is just the breaking them in stage and not the “you’re gonna wish you were dead every time you wear these” phase.

• I confess that yesterday when Rambo did an armed escort (dropping some prisoners off and picking up some new prisoners) and he didn’t call when I thought he would be done – I watched the clock and contemplated calling the prison to see if the trip was back yet. Nearly 3 hours after his normal shift ended – he called. They were late because the prisoners were whining they had to pee on the way home so they had to stop a few times at local city jails. Annoying. I confess I wouldn’t have been nearly as worried as I was if Rambo hadn’t spent the entire day before being giddy about this trip because of all the guns he was going to get to carry.

• I confess that I’m one of those morons that orders a cheeseburger at McDonald’s and then tells them to make it plain – like with no cheese.

• I confess that the sweetest thing I ever saw was this morning when I went into my 5 year old’s room to wake her up and she was wrapped up like an Eskimo with just her tiny face showing and I said, “Banana…it’s time to wake up” in my best Mary Poppins sing song-y voice…she pretended to be asleep but forgot to not smile…or giggle. I swear to you – that is what angels look and sound like. (it makes the cat puke MUCH more tolerable too)

13 comments:

Laura Belle said...

Good, good, good confessions post!

I'm pretty sure boys have no concept of a compliment. It's just too complicated for their pea-sized brains. Ryan's idea of a compliment is eating an entire plate of spaghetti and saying, "Mmm, that was good, thanks." I don't give a rhino's ass if the cooking was good, tell me my boobs look sexy in this low-cut top, damn it!

Erin said...

You make me giggle :)

Cat's Chic Chat said...

I have similar poop issues. Other people can even go at work - I cannot. I refuse to do that at my place of business. I have absolute sympathy for you having to deal with non-family poo in your toilet. You poor poor darling.

As for other people's kids. I like my niece and my nephew and that's it. I don't even like kids enough to have some of my own. My darling dog is enough for me. : )

Leslie said...

I can't deal with puke, I just can't do it. When our cats puke I have to run out of the room.

I think I need to do a confessions post today, I'm so in that mood.

Beth Ann said...

What the heck does your neighbor feed their kid?? I mean, really??

LOL :)

Trisha said...

I love your "I confess" posts... Just love them! you are so funny yet truthful. Hard to find that!! love it!

Catherine55 said...

Your 5 year old sounds so freaking adorable! What a great reaction! :) Bummer re the guys at work... sometimes they can be so clueless...

Dizzy Girl said...

I'm confessing that I love you. :) That is all

Laurie said...

That poop thing is hysterical. And, we have had that too. A friend's kid has serious bowel issues and has clogged my toilet more than once. I have not puked, but have gagged. It's the non-family poop thing that sends me over the edge.
Would request a picture of the pink shoes, with or without the messed up feet.
Satan's dick, never heard that, but LOVE!

Dazee Dreamer said...

You really need to start saying those things you are thinking back to the douchebags. My daughter-in-law, who works with me, will come back with shit all the time to the guys, and it is awesome. Now, work on it. I want an I confess next week that says you did it.

And the dude that thought your tattoos were weird, he's probably a woman hating, she can't do anything without my approval kind of guy. ick

Kelly said...

I don't have kids, but I wouldn't like ay kids except for my own, or if they were important to me in some other way - like my niece for example. I loved the police tape image! hehe

AutumnLeaves said...

Not a big kid fan either, except when my own were kids and now my grandkids. I'm with you on the if you can't say something nice idea. People are idiots, aren't they? Ok, not all of them, but so many! Where were they when the teachers were talking at school? As to the toilet issues and cat puke issues? I'm the same way. Once one of the dogs we used to have had diarrhea in the living room. I simply took a pack of foil flat pans that I'd bought for some purpose or other and turned them upside down over the messes. That helped contain the stench a wee bit and they sat that way until my husband got home. No way, no how. Cat puke? A paper towel goes over it and it also waits for the husband to get home. I only deal with it if I have to because he is out of town. Weak stomach here too.

Bridget said...

What is it with guys, they can be so clueless sometimes!

Sounds like your kiddo's sleepy smile was adorable!

My husband keeps trying to get me to babysit his co-workers' kids and I won't do it. If it were a one-time thing, I might. But not permanently.