Wednesday, July 27, 2011

And Here I Sit...

With my face almost plastered to the keyboard. I'm tired. What could possible have me this out of it, you may wonder?

I'm pretty sure I have seen advertisement about buying food online and they deliver it to you. Which is so much better than getting a rusted grocery cart that will cause you to use Herculean strength to push it around the store, battle screaming people, have what is on your list out, and then stand in line for 25 minutes as you wait in the 1 of the 3 check out lanes.

Not that I'm bitter much.

And yes, I did time it.

I don't know what it is about grocery shopping, but it sure does take the starch right out of me. But to stand there and gaze at all the empty lanes that aren't open will test the patience of a saint.

Sadly, I am not that saint. I'm the crazy one with an eye twitch.

I think I had the eye twitch from doing laundry earlier. I found a load of the boys' clothes crying, "good-bye cruel world" as it crawled into the washing machine. The stench - it was fierce. I was told I'm not funny.

With the hot weather of last week, the laundry was over ripe. I think it's getting worse. I've heard this is all part of the age but eww. I walk around here like a gunslinger with a can of Febreze attached to my hip ready to shoot the smell right out of the sky.

I'm told I crossed a line when I hosed a dude down with the Febreze and I guess it is frowned upon to force people to lift their arms so I can hose down the pits.

Does anyone have any ideas how to help motivate a few people to shave the 5 whiskers off their chin? No, I'm not talking about myself - I'm already motivated.

The older 2 look at their dad and think they don't have to shave because Hubby is not a hairy dude. The hairy came from my side of the family. As I've stated a time or thirty that I think someone in the gene pool may have mated with a yeti at some point. Not so great for me being a girl, but the guys will be able to own their fur without too much mishap. But I've noticed lately when crumbs start to get tangled in those 5 whiskers I start to stare.

And then I get yelled at for staring. I thought I showed great restraint by not pointing or, heaven forbid, flicking the crumbs off.

I asked Hubby dear to try and educate me on how to survive all things guy. True to form, he shrugged his shoulders and mumbled, "I dunno."

Kill me now.


jubilee said...

"The Age of Eww" I love it! You sure do have a great way with words.

I think I will follow your example and hang a bottle of Febreeze from my belt too. If only I wore belts . . .

Joanna said...

I don't wear belts - maybe belt loops? Yeah, yeah that's the ticket.