A joyous, momentous occasion was marked today as 6-inch finally crawled. Wondrous, warm tears I wept as I watched my wee babe become mobile at last. He finally crawled. He did. He really did. I gave him positive feedback and told him it was about fucking time simultaneously.
Footlong is enjoying summer! Just yesterday he came to me with a math book and a bit of quadratic equations were ours. Today he built a two person helicopter out of a Big Wheel, paper napkins, a ball of rubber bands, two tampons, and a bag of Dole Spring Mix salad. He and 6-inch flew around the back yard in his whirlybird as I took plenty of photos.
Working hard tremendously is J. Poor man comes home every night tired to the bone from working so hard. It’s all he can do to collapse onto our imported custom-designed Italian leather sectional sofa and watch TV on our 46″ plasma screen while our robot butler, Percival, takes his drink order. I make sure I have a hearty dinner ready for him; usually a pilaf. Or cold grain salad. Or take-out. Quality time is ours after the kids are put to bed, their soft and ample bottoms bearing the marks of my Pampered Chef spatula. Click here for a terrific deal on Pampered Chef products!
I was at a Mom’s Meet-Up the other day and had severe stomach cramps. Having a painful, liquidy bowel movement was going to happen at any time. The bathroom was out of order, so I crouched atop my Prada bag and made do (ha! pun intended!). I’m so crafty when it comes to finding a quick solution to a problem. I don’t cuss except for when I do, but if I did cuss, which I will, I’d say it was pretty fucking brilliant of me. Ahem. Not ten minutes later I had to urinate, and as my bag was full I proceeded to crouch atop the water fountain while the other moms were having coffee and cinnamon rolls. I made a delicious twig and leaf salad, and it was gone before the cinnamon rolls!
Today I was staring out of the living room window, and it was cloudy. The glass. Not the weather. Ahem. I imagined what it would be like to have cataracts and see the world in a cloudy, smudged way like my darling grandmother. She would have loved to have seen clearly though her windows. Her eyes and her literal windows. I then lovingly caressed the glass panes with Windex, and at last was able to see again. Do you have a special Windex story to tell? Type your comment below and tell me why Windex is so fucking great to be entered into a giveaway for a Windex coupon.
This is obviously a work of fiction. I do not use Pampered Chef products. I do not spank my kids with spatulas. There is no Windex promotion. I do not shit in my purse nor do I pee in fountains. This story is a piece of satire. Or is it a parody? Eh, it’s one of the two. If you didn’t enjoy this then you have no fucking sense of humor. That is all.