Not that I even have time now--I've supposed to be getting ready to take the boys to storytime at the library for our weekly playgroup. Just to shrink away in (loud) humiliation after about 20 minutes because Avery won't stop climbing the bookshelves or dismantling the rolling book carts. That kid has been my biggest challenge of the four. Constant motion, constant whining, constant trouble. It's a good thing he says something really funny every now and then.
I had a great picture to share with you for my return since inexplicably dropping off the face of the earth. But here's the catch--it's on my iphone. And everyone and anyone that's every tried to call or text me when I'm not actually riding in my car knows that my iphone has a permanent spot in my car. I hate to break it to everyone, but I don't bring it in the house with me, hauling it to and fro like Gollum securing his precious ring. (Man, looking at that creepy little guy makes me feel better about myself.) I'm not usually that important--no such life-threatening, pressing matters that I need to be reached when I'm trying to pee. Plus, then the boys would find it and I would never see it again. At least until the plumber-that-never-shows-up finally showed up and snaked it out of the toilet. So back to the problem--the funny picture is going to stay in the car until I get home from the library. And then I'll bring it in with me and let you share in the funny. And on a totally unrelated note:
It still freaks me out when someone calls me "ma'am." I've been called far worse over my lifetime, but when the teenager bagging my groceries calls me that, I still do an inner flinch. It's not that I care about getting old--I don't. It's not that I think I look too young to be a ma'am--I don't. I have one giant gray hair in the front of my head, if you remember. And here in the South alot of kids are trained to use "ma'am" and "sir" to adults--which I love. I don't require it from mine (like I need another battle to fight), but it sure is FABULOUS when they are in total deep-doodoo and they throw a "yes ma'am" or "no ma'am" at you. It makes you feel like they're really paying attention to their wrongdoings, when in reality they probably just read your blog and know that's the fastest way out of hot water.
Tata til later.
I'm back now. And as expected, Aidan was totally and completely engrossed in storytime. Avery spent the whole time whining about leaving and trying to dig through my purse for who knows what. But we survived and now I'm giddy because it's almost their naptime.
And here's picture I promised.
I love it. In big, bold silver letters--TURD.I have a few questions about it though. 1) Is he self-identifying or name-calling the person reading it? 2) Where do you buy such a car decal? 3) Did it perhaps say something different and some letters popped off? STURDY? Maybe a misspelled 'Turdle'?
Jessica, this car decal is dedicated to you and your inability/unwillingness to spell "turd" correctly. As soon as I find out where to pick up a turd sign for your car, you will be receiving one to apply wherever you choose.
