It's Tuesday, time for Gratitude with Attitude brought to you by the snarkalicious Zgirl over at the Think Tank. Hop on over and link up or she'll stab you in the elbow.
The fruit of my loins seem to be doing everything in their power to drive their poor ole' mamma into an early grave, or a straight jacket. There are weeks I would hump the leg of the person that invented wine, seriously. Hey, wine is my valium. Don't judge.
Dear daughter, heart of my heart, love of my life, spawn of satan:
When I told you 6 million, 436 thousand times not to drink juice while using my laptop, did you think I was joking? Do you really believe your mamma just runs off at the mouth because she likes the sound of her own voice? Has it never dawned on you that your mamma may know what she's talking about and perhaps it just might be a good idea to actually do what she says sometimes?
I saw you taking a sip of the juice at the exact moment your brother cracked a joke about something he was watching on tv. The rest was like watching a bad movie in slow motion. Or like when you're having a nightmare that someone is chasing you but your legs won't move even though your lungs feel as though they're about to explode from exertion.
I watched as you valiantly tried not to laugh, smushing your lips together to prevent the juice from escaping, desperately trying to set the cup back onto the table so that you could cover your mouth with your hand (you know, you do have two hands, right?) Then I watched the juice spew from your mouth all over MY laptop. All I could do was stand in the doorway shouting "Nooooooooooooooooooo"
So thank you daughter. Oh it's ok really, who needs a numeric keypad (not this mamma who bought the damn laptop SPECIFICALLY for the numeric keypad). And being able to use the left click button...highly overrated, right?
Thanks for not listening,
Nurmerically challenged Mamma
Dear children,
Your mamma works damn hard. I go without designer shoes in order to ensure that you
- Take it.
- Leave it
that looks delish!!