Friday, September 28, 2012

Day 5: Random Whining on a Friday Night


I am spending my Friday evening watching Power Rangers and attempting to clean dog poop from the tiny grooves on the bottom of my son's Kangaroos. I have yet to figure out how Nicholas manages to find the one overlooked pile of shit in the entire back yard and step in it. Every. Single. Time. But here I am on Friday night. Bent over the toilet with a wad of paper towels and a butter knife in hand as my dog stands watch with a smirk on her furry snout. This is, however, ever so slightly preferable to watching Power Rangers.

I just got a call from Sears confirming the time for the installation of my new stove, dishwasher and
fridge tomorrow—the highlight of my weekend. Of course, they are not all being delivered at once. That would make life entirely too simple. The stove and dishwasher require installation and are being delivered between 9:30 and 12:30. The fridge does not require install and is being delivered between 4:15 and 6:15 in the afternoon. I guess my Saturday will consist of waiting around for Sears.

I love autumn. It is my favorite time of the year. Of course, in addition to the crisp air and the colorful foliage, fall also marks the beginning of fundraiser season. Ugh. Everyone's kid is selling one piece of crap or another. I bought $30 worth of cookie dough (like I need cookies!) from a coworker's kids last week. Then last night, my nephew shows up peddling the same stuff. Cookie dough. Wrapping paper. Chicken wild rice soup. Of course, I can't refuse. As much as I really do not want that hideous holographic Rudolph wrapping paper, it'll be Girl Scout Cookie season soon and I will be the one on the peddling end of the order form. It's a vicious cycle, really.

My daughter's legs are getting longer every day and they always seem to be sprawled across my body more often than not. Whether she is crowding me out of my bed at 3am or kicking me in the kidneys as she stretches out on the couch next to me watching television, she is ALL legs. Legs and stringy hair that she both refuses to let me comb (that is, without the neighbors assuming I am butchering a cat in here) and refuses to let me cut. She says she doesn't want to cut it because she wants it long enough to wear in pony tails. But she never lets me put it in pony tails. It just hangs there. In her face. Getting more and more tangled as the day goes on. Driving me ever closer to the brink of insanity. I swear, one day I am going to cut it in her sleep. That probably wouldn't win me mother of the year, huh?

1 comments:

Madgew said...

I know who runs your household and it is not you:) That Sophie has you wrapped around all her fingers and toes. But she sure is cute. Get a hard brush with steel for the shoes. It works really well.

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