Yep this is another one that is guaranteed to get me in trouble with my husband.
Getting the twins dressed for school this morning was actually a nice experience, sometimes it would be easier to sandpaper a lion's ass but today it did not suck. Pat the mommy on the back for getting the “outfits” ready the night before. Doing it this way usually causes the night to suck for a little while because we have to go through the fight that consists of, “No honey, you can wear this one OR this one but NOT that one. She gets pissed but she chooses and we move on. My girl gets it, she knows a deal is a deal because she WILL NOT repeat will not, back out on her choice the next morning. She will occasionally roll her eyes or make a comment under her breath about it while she is dressing (something to let me know she hates it but is willing to rock it martyr style) but she will always take one for the team and wear it anyway. Boundaries man, I lurve me some! My son, he is a non-issue when it comes to dressing unless you try to squeeze in something on him that has a picture or ANY writing on it. Stripes or solids man, that is IT!! I lost my head the other day and put a shirt out with his khaki shorts that had a dinosaur on it and some words.
T-shirt in question except it was red.
I don’t even know where that thing came from (well actually I do) because I would NEVER have bought it. Girl’s clothes are easy but boy’s clothes are a different story. It is as if they have to make the little fella look like a pansy ass momma’s boy instead of a cool little boy. Does a shirt with a dinosaur on it really have to say GGRRRRRRRR or RAWR for you to get the idea??? Well, when my little man caught wind of this shirt he looks at me like I had a damn snake on my head and says, “oh no mommy, this WON’T do, I will not wear this.” I looked up from my coffee cup to see him holding this shirt in his little hand like the garment had just been diagnosed with the worse case of the clap ever to hit the East Coast! His eyes were HUGE and he was looking at me as if to say, come on mom, do you WANT me to get my ass beat!?!?! I nodded as if he had really said that and then I actually said, “I didn’t see all that stuff on the shirt because it was folded wrong and all I could see was red, I am sorry buddy.” He looks at me with his sweet but serious face and says, “Sorry doesn’t cut it mommy.” Then he slowly and deliberately walks the t-shirt to the trash can, drops it in, brushes his hands together to “clean them off” and goes to his room to get a polo shirt (these are great as long as the polo emblem is not pink). My boy is a prep for sure and he too has his boundaries. I sure hope he is that picky when choosing a bride.
Oh yeah Ali the Toddler....
So back to this morning… everyone and everything was business as usual, which is just how I like it to roll in the am. If you absolutely must have a morning in which you have to deal or be dealt with by people at all, then it must be done in the quick and necessary transaction fashion. Thank god my twins feel the same way, makes me look like much less of a bitch. It was time for me to get dressed and they wanted to spend more time with me (talking to me) so we all three went up to my room. I figured they would talk and chatter with each other while I got dressed. I was in a bit of a hurry because I sat adoringly watching them do their thing for about 15 minutes and that pushed me into the oh hell we got to get outta here mode! I took a sip of coffee, set the cup down on the dresser and then began to drop my jammies to the floor. I reached in the drawer for a bra and rummaged around to find only one and it is not one that fits the girls in a savory manner. It bares a striking resemblance to pigs fighting under a blanket. I squeezed into it, then bent over and reached down on the floor for a t-shirt that was crumpled there (in my opinion it perfectly matched the shorts that were laying near it) and BOOM my DD’s fall OUT of the top of the bra and are hanging there like 40 longs! Dammit big boobs after childbirth really suck!! They just don’t have the perk and buoyancy they used to! AND yes, of course my twins are standing there and yes they see this, and yes I walk (not parade) around in front of them scantily clad when I need to. Naked happens and in a busy household like ours you get what you get, at least I didn’t breast feed them until they could recite the friggin Gettysburg address! So my daughter simply says, “you better put that one back and find one that fits.” My son however comes up with something a bit better. Out of the corner of my eye I see my little boy with both fists balled up and leaning towards me. He then gets closer and begins to treat the one boob closest to him like a punching bag…rolling his fists into it while he dances from foot to foot. I expected my daughter to start belting out the tune from Rocky but even she was stunned. My first reaction was utter (pun intended) shock…where the hell did he learn to ball his fists up like that…HE IS 4 for God’s sake! Then, where the hell did he get the boxing reference??? Is part of that private school curriculum to teach my son how to float like a butterfly and sting like a bee??? I guess it is true that men learn when they are boys to love these God given toys!! But what is next, a motorboat?
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