Thursday, April 27, 2017

So much coffee

It's winter again, you guys.  SNOW this morning, even  What the hell.

In other WHAT THE HELL news, I have this weird twisted lip face I always make in selfies, which I THINK mean that I am too fucking old to take selfies.  Also too vain to stop.  Also, do these glasses hide mu under eye circles because HOLY SHIT I am so tired?
 Genius breakfast because I cannot even eat more eggs right now:
 This fucking bear.  Dorothy calls it Amy Duncan (because every time I tell Jack to play with her they watch Good Luck Charlie, but I am a total MOTY and don't care because they are leaving me alone), but I have named it CONFLICT BEAR.
 Come closer, and I will tell you about Conflict Bear.

Dorothy and Cooper and I were at Wal Mart (I know I should not shop there but sometimes I need really cheap stuff) picking up dance tights and a new leotard and eggs-- and I mean literally picking them up because I swung by to buy them on my way to get the kids from preschool and got all the way to the check out line before I realized I didn't have my wallet in my purse.  So, awesomely, I got to get the kids, go home, get my wallet, go to Wal Mart with the kids, and then cram in all the household chores I needed to do before dance class which was SO RELAXING AND AWESOME.

Every time we go to Wal Mart (which is not very often because I have a social conscience and I never go to Hobby Lobby or Chik-Fil-A so LEAVE ME ALONE), Dorothy  and Cooper ask for quarters for the claw machine so they can try to grab stuffed animals, and I never say yes.  Only this time, they saw that my wallet full of quarters, and I felt unreasonable saying no (and I only had quarters because I didn't have time to park in my garage the other day and had to get like $20 worth at the business school), so I gave them each $.50.

Dorothy pulled Conflict Bear out on the first try.

And then I fed the entire remaining $19 into the machine for Cooper and never grabbed another thing.  OF COURSE.

I tried to tell him that no one ever wins anything out of those machines, but he was just looking at Conflict Bear and then looking at me like WTAF?  There were tears.  Donuts helped.

I love that Dorothy doesn't care that her arms are not raised like EVERYONE ELSE'S.  This recital is going to be amazeballs.
 Harry had a historical fiction book fair yesterday.  He read a book about the Sudan civil war
 And made this scary ass timeline illustrated with nuclear bombs.  I tried to tell him that it wasn't that kind of war.
 He has a HUGE fan club.
 I know you should never pick up hitchhikers, but this one looked low on the axe-murdery scale.
 Ok.  I know I should not have any more babies because my house is too small and money will be too tight and I am too old and miscarriages SUCK SO BAD and also global warming, but you guys.  I don't know how I am going to cope with no more squishy little children with dimpled knuckles and elbows and fat fingers and round cheeks.
 Who are captivated by magic pattern sheets.  I just love them so much.
 Jack took this action shot and texted it to me-- ha!
 Jack got this book for his birthday, and we tried our first recipe yesterday.
 He misread butter as peanut butter, so we used regular butter AND PB on accident, and it was a very happy accident (if you do this, add a smidge more flour to compensate for the sticky-- not sure how much-- I just dumped a bit until the dough was the right texture)
 They were so gooey and delicious, and we ate them playing Skip Bo, so now all the cards are basically ruined.
 She wanted to wear my lipstick.  How could I refuse?
 Ben's work uniform.

1 comment:

Holly Sisk said...

I have dimpled knuckles and elbows, fat fingers, and round cheeks and am completely willing to be adopted. Plus side, you wouldn't be the oldest in the house. Major plus side, Beatrix and I need about the same level of attention.