We’re still waiting on a date for the Home Study, but my luck would be them showing up today. Today when laundry isn’t yet put away, Today when I missed the trash truck yesterday and have trash bags littering the house, Today when I feel, generally, like shit and don’t want to fuck with it all. I just want to crawl back into bed and stay there.

But Stacey said I had to get up, so here I am. We all know I haven’t touched my blog for weeks, and that I should be cleaning. I could give you some profound, uplifting speech about how “I always start things and then never finish, and this blog will not be one of those things, and ….”

But we both would know that I’m full of shit, and don’t want to clean. I do, however, feel like blogging. So you, poor reader, are in for a treat another one of my crazed-over-dramatic stories about my life. Enjoy!

First of all, my kid is getting way too fucking smart. I think they’re injecting his cereal with something at school. He comes to me with his math homework and demands I help him. So I look at it, and am immediately confoosed. They’ve got these stars with numbers in each corner, and blank lines everywhere. I ask him what it is, and he tells me “Fact Families. You find the ones that fit.” What the hell kind of sick twisted first grade shit is this? No. I cannot help you with Fact Families, boy, go ask your daddy. And I’m pretty sure platypus isn’t a number. But I could be wrong.

So Daddy is looking at it, scratching his head. “What the hell kind of sick twisted first grade shit is this?” he ponders. “Fact Families. You find the ones that fit,” says the boy, smiling. So daddy and the boy sit down and 11 hours and seven Monsters later have the whole paper filled in, I’m assuming correctly, because the teacher didn’t call me screaming utter nonsense.

But then I got mad. If he knew what to do, and what it was, then that whole innocent “I need help with my homework!” thing was just a way to test just exactly how stupid we are. And of course, I have come up with a COMPLETELY logical theory about this.

You see, he’s been making his own breakfast and snacks, pouring his own milk… I don’t even have to watch him in the tub anymore. He washes his own hair and body, and even takes the stopper out of the drain without prodding. He brushes his teeth, goes to bed. Gets dressed, ties his shoes, zips up and then puts on his own jacket and backpack without help, and gets on the bus and goes off to terrorist training camp first grade like nothings happened. This can only mean one thing.

He’s plotting to overthrow us. No, wait! Think about it! It’s perfect in it’s simplicity! Just a normal kid, growing up, right? NO! That’s what he WANTS you to think. He’s after our power. Our iron-fist ruling! Our Little Debbie’s snack cakes! And he’ll stop at nothing. He won’t rest until he’s the one in charge. No more being grounded, no more 8:30pm bedtime, no more ‘Mamma and Daddy’ being the boss. He’ll have us hanged! Drawn and Quartered! Thrown into the lion-pit! What will we do!?!?

I think I have a solution, but it may not work. I’m going to smother him in motherly love, and make him hot chocolate with whipped cream and animal crackers. He won’t be able to resist! And brownies! It’s brilliant! I’ll show him that sure, he could off us at any given moment, but who will be around to tuck him in and give him hot chocolate at night? NO ONE, you say, boy? That’s right. And that chocolate is smelling mighty nice right about now, isn’t it?

We will beg for his help?

Saddam’s lawyer issued a statement made by the evil-do’er himself. Check it out and see if it makes you laugh as much as it did me…

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20060626/ap_on_re_mi_ea/iraq_saddam

Oh yeah, I’m sure that it’s gonna happen. I mean, he’s just so damned charming! How could we resist?

Idiot.

I wouldn’t cry…

I would be the LAST person to cry if they shut down the mall. Seriously. Yesterday, after Kathy left from visiting me at work, a woman (girl?) came in. She had a brand-new cell phone in one hand, and a wierd thing that I refused to ask about, in the other. She starts screaming “Oooooh god, oh god, I done spent my money on this stuff, now my mamma go’n Keeel me!”

Me, being the polite, if not innocent, bystander, I just smiled at her and acted like I was counting credit card receipts. This required every ounce of my concentration, however she seemed to not notice. At all.

“Now I done spent my paycheck on this stuff and my boyfrein’ go’n be so opset (yeah, she said opset) with me! How’s he go’n get a phone too, with on’y 4 dollars? Can you give me some money from that thing? (pointing to the register)

No ma’m. I’m sorry you spent all your money, but I can’t give you any. Maybe you can try to return something you bought today.

Ha. “Naw, I can’t do that. My mamma go’n be pissed. You sure you can’t just give me 20 bucks? From your pocket even?”

No ma’m. I think you should probably leave now, it’s clear you don’t intend on buying anything, and I have things to do.

“Yeah.” (eyeing my backpack and slowly stepping around the counter)

Yeah. (Me moving in front of her to keep her from swiping my backpack) I’m calling security now. (picking up the phone)

“Well that ain’t too nice. You SURE you don’t have 20 bucks to give to me?”

Lady, do I LOOK like an ATM??? You need to leave the store, now. I’m calling security. (they FINALLY pick up the damned phone)

She finally started backing away, as I told them what was going on. They said they’d be on thier way. She just stood there looking at me.

“I don’t think you really called them.”

I did, don’t worry.

“Well I don’t think you did. They’d be here by now. You’re a liar.”

Ma’m, I just hung up the phone. They are coming. Please leave.

“I ain’t goin back to jail. I spent the night there last week. They dont have beds.”

(me almost panicking when she said “going back…”) Oh……

Security shows up. Their office is like RIGHT down the hall, thank god. One of them is my “boyfriend”. (hey, it’s just a joke… me and hollie call him that cause he tried to take me home one night) The woman proceeds to start crying, and telling them I took her 20$. (Oh great.)
They take her by the arm, take the phone she’s carrying, and the wierd thing that I didn’t ask about, and escort her out the door.

My “boyfriend” comes back and tells me that they’ve been looking for her. She stole the phone, 45$ out of the register, and the wierd thing from another store. I finaly ask they guy his name. And you know what? I’ve already forgotten it. I’ve been fascinated that someone was attracted to me other than my husband, and was like “Gee. Wonder what his name is?” for months now. Then I find out, and forget the damned name. Sheesh. I think it was Brandon or something.
——————————————————————————————–
Then, Brian, another guy who hits on me (yeah, like there are sooooo many…) came into the store. He’s always bugging me when I’m busy, and I always wind up yelling at him. He runs off, tail between his legs, and comes back later with a cookie or something. I keep telling him I’m married. With a kid. and 2 cats. But he pretty much just ignores me. he doesn’t try to get me to go in the stock room anymore with him, so I think h’es getting the message. But he still comes around and we talk.

Anyways, he came into the store, and tried to be sympathetic. He put his arm around my shoulders, and I twisted it untill he started yelling. No touchie, Brian. He knows this.
(God, hollie would freak out anyways! Even if I did almost break his arm!!)
Anyways, he feels so bad for me, yaddah yaddah. Whatever. Go get me a drink, then you can stay and talk.
So I’m drinking my Dr. Pepper, and he’s telling me that his truck got broken into. Aww. Poor baby. That happens when you get high and leave the doors open.

Then his girlfriend calls, and he walks outside. Told ya he was crazy. I told him he had to go, cause Lisa was about to show up and I was going. I really didn’t want him following me out to the parkinglot and trying to hug me. That’s all I need. Thank god he only shows up once every few weeks or so, or I’d be half crazy right now. And probably divorced, the way he acts. I’ve even hit him. Hard.

I’m rambling about everything because I have no cigarettes. But I’ve scrounged up 7 dollars, so I can get them and food today. Woohoo! Now I just have to wait untill 2:30 to get them. Bleh.

Gotta go, Hunter needs lunch, and I need to pick up the livingroom. Bye!!