People are crazy

So I am in Food Lion today picking up a few things before picking up the twins and the following interactions and exchanges actually took place, right before my eyes.  I am not making up a single word of it!  If anything I am probably leaving something out because I was again amazed at the shit I manage to see.

Customer Service aint what it used to be.

I was about to turn my cart onto an aisle when I saw two women coming toward me.  One was a Food Lion employee also trying to enter this aisle.  The other was a customer with her cart and her children trying to exit this aisle.  I stood still while the other two went at it.  The customer was not looking where she was going and almost ran into the employee who had stopped as if to hold her spot.  You know how women can be.

Customer:  Um, can you MOVE?

Food Lion Employee:  Um, I STOPPED because you almost hit me with your cart!

C:  I did not!

FLE: Ya did so!

C:  Did not!

FLE:  Did so!

C:  I  DID  NOT  (spoken very slowly and rather petulantly)

FLE: YA  DID  SO  (spoken the same way but with one hand on hip with head bobbing back and forth.)

C:  You want me to hit you and show you what you think you missed then come on!

FLE:  BRING IT BITCH!

C:  NOW HOLD ON, DON’T YOU GO TALKIN THAT WAY IN FRONT MY CHILREN.  JUST MOVE YO SORRY SELF!

Both roll their eyes and begin to move out of each other’s way.  When their backs are to each other.  I hear this…

C: Did not!

FLE: Did so!

I am walking towards the deodorant when the FLE makes eye contact with me.

FLE:  You saw dat, she almos hit me wit dat cart, didn’t she?

ME:  (throwing both hands up in the air) Hey, I am Switzerland, just trying to do my thing you know?

C:  Yeah I hear ya.

I turn to go up the next aisle where I see a cart with a newborn baby in it.  ALL ALONE??? There is no one on the aisle but me.  So I slow down to make sure all is ok (you know the bread truck didn’t just drip this little sucker off so doesn’t she belong to someone?)  I get close to her and….

Crazy Food Lion Customer:  What are you lookin at, that is MY baby.

ME:   Ok, ok, I was just making sure she had not been left alone.

CFLC:  Well, thank you for checking (looking at me with a suspicious glare)

While quickly moving my cart out of the way BUT not watching where I was going, I run into a stand of cookies and knock them all over!  I look up and see the Food Lion employee coming towards me looking at the mess all over the floor.

FLE:  WELL, what did the crazy ass do, knock DA hell outta somebody else?

Me:  (Laughing uncontrollably) No honey that was me.

FLE:  Well least you admitted it!

I am doubled over at this point and can barely breathe! The FLE is cleaning up the cookies while muttering to herself. 

FLE: I shoulda pop dat bitch in da face, she hit me wit that damn cart and she knew it! Shit!

It happened at the check- out counter.

An Asian man was going through the self-checkout line.  A man came in behind him and began staring at him.  After a few moments, the conversation began.  (Difficult to understand the Asian man and he didn’t use connecting words, he was pissed!)

Asian Man:  Why you look at me?

Confused customer:  Oh, I am sorry but I think I know you. I am trying to figu

AM:  Well stop, I never see you before in my life.

CC:  Didn’t I sell you a car or something, I mean wait, did we work together?  I got it, is your name James Wong right?

AM:  No, No and No,  Amerwicans, you thing we all look alike!  My name not Wong.  Leave me lone!

Laughing again I am now just about ready to start shopping here all the time.  I could use the comic relief.  To top it all off, as I am leaving and putting groceries in my car a man in a Camaro (and God knows I just LOVE men in Camaro’s) putting an absolute shit load of Budweiser in his car, starts talking to me about how hot I am. Oh yeah,  I SO look in the mirror every day and remark to myself how hot I am and how nice it would be to get hit on by a man in a Camaro.  It wasn’t just any Camaro, it was candy apple red with huge tires or is it rims…no clue car talk is lost on me.  It was really tricked out and even had a fur steering wheel cover and the set of testicles hanging from the rear view mirror!  Just the kind of thing that makes me want to leave my husband ya know?  Feeling all highbrow and not at all hillbilly I kind of stare at him like he is a total ass clown then look away as if to make him feel like he never existed.  I am way to good for such a person right?  I finish putting my groceries in the car and get in, key in ignition and what comes blasting out of the stereo????  Gimme three steps!  So much for the smoke and mirrors, we were kindred spirits!

Mother Nature is a bitch!

 

Winter is gone, spring is finally here,

The whole South is yellow this time of year,

With pores that contain male gametes

Pollen!  It covers everything, even the streets.

 

It’s borne by an anther in a plant that flowers

Please hook a sista up with a few spring showers?

I cannot breathe and when the wind blows

It flies in my hair, my eyes and my nose.

 

I can’t stop sneezing and I have a nasty hack

Not to mention a headache and an asthma attack.

Leaving the house is just a pain in the ass

God help me if I have to walk in the grass.

 

I’ve hit all the drug stores and points in between

Raiding the shelves of Sudafed, Benadryl and Visine.

Once it’s all gone, things will be lush and green

Until then I’ll be stoned from chugging Loratadine.

 

My voice has completely lost its girlish tone

Damn I hate The Pine, you know, the tree with the cone.

My eyes are all red, swollen and sore,

I am sniffing and snorting just like a crack whore.

 

It makes me so dizzy and I look like hell,

Like some strung out pusher from a Colombian cartel.

Irritable and nasty, it makes me as mean as snot

Shouldn’t blame that on pollen, it’s my life’s lot.

 

My husband says, “Lets open the windows or sit on the porch”

My reply, “You touch those damn windows you will get a divorce”!

Him, “ We can get some fresh air while the trees are swayin”

Me,  “And I will beat you with a deck chair honey I’m just sayin”!

 

Spring is so pretty in the Carolina of North

But I suffer until all of the flowers burst forth

with coughing and sneezing,  and my nose will run and twitch

I hate to say it but Mother Nature is a bitch!

 

 

 

 

 

Tell me its over

Spring break has been wonderful, its been warm with beautiful skies and blooming flowers everywhere. We have frolicked in the lovely green....OK that is all the Polly Anna bullshit I have in me. We haven't frolicked in anything. I do not frolic and neither do my children. You also know there is nothing green this time of year, its all yellow and hangs in your throat like a smoldering pile of hay! The twins have flooded the house, spilled any and all forms of liquid on every good rug I have but not once managed to hit the hard wood floor. They have broken drawers, curfew, glasses, toys, spirits and pride. They have pissed in the tub, on the floor, in the air, in my face and once in the sink (but I am told that one was my fault because I washed his feet with cold water???). One more item on the Things you DO NOT want to hear list. So here we go.

Mommy I am going to screw you til you die!

Having just finished Eastah Dinnah, we were all sitting in the dining room trying to grab the gumption to move. We were full as ticks because there is no such thing as a small meal in our family. I got up to see where the twins were. It WAS terribly quiet so they must have been up to something right?  I was standing in the foyer when I hear them stomping down the steps.  I look up and here is the girl child, she was screaming " Hey mommy I am going to screw you til you die"!!!! I thought cool, just what I have always wanted to hear but I was hoping it would be from George Clooney, Brad Pitt or hell even my loving husband...basically anyone but my 3 year old daughter.  About that time she rammed a plastic drill into my thigh and believe it or not, it hurt like hell. I have a nice big purple and green bruise to prove it.  Enter the boy child. He comes up behind her with his plastic medical kit screaming, "You screw her then I will fix her" "How does that sound to you mommy"??? Hmmm how do I dare answer this one. Thanks sweetie, been there, done that? Well kids now you know how mommy and daddy got you and how we KNOW there WON'T be any more right? OK, hold on let me put my nail file down and brace myself? Turning to see everyone at the dining room table staring at me to see what prize winning mommy thing I was going to say, I simply said "Honey you don't want mommy to die do you?" to which my daughter replied, "OK, fine then I will just screw you"  

Great place to end right.  Spring break is over and starting Monday morning I will have my sanity back, whew.  Well, not so fast mommy.  Husband and I were watching T.V.  He looks over and reminds me how tired I look (thanks for the turd in the punch bowl honey, now piss off won't you!)  I say to him, "yes I am tired but I can sleep late tomorrow because those little porch monkey's we love so much will be in school tomorrow and it cannot come a moment to soon."  Looking sheepishly in my direction he obviously has something to say.  What he came out with left me shadoobie shattered!  I could have accepted "honey I have fathered 6 children, with 6 different women since we have been married and they are all coming to live with us in a few weeks.  Oh and their mothers too"  or  " I lost the house in a poker match at a strip club downtown and I threw in all your shoes too" or even  "Honey I think I am gay"  but not........."Honey don't you know that the kids are out again tomorrow"  No I did not know that! Why in the hell would I know that, I don't work there"?????? (are you picturing me, the poster child for involved mommies) He says," they are always out the first day after a holiday, its a teacher work day"    Well Dammit they just had 5, why do they need one more..don't they know what they are doing by now?  Why do they need a day to work in the quiet without children, I DON"T GET ONE?  WHY WHY WHY??? (teachers that read this...please don't feel the need to educate me on why, I actually get it but damn I'm just sayin)  I want these little suckers back in school.  I had a tiny melt down, nothing out of the ordinary, just an only child, red headed stepchild, tired mommy melt down.  He looked at me like I had a snake on my head but true to his* happiness is a choice* training, he ignored me and made sure he was out of the house the next morning before we all woke up.  Must be nice!

The Spring Break Chronicles continue...

more things you DO NOT want to hear!

Mommy, its going everywhere and I cannot stop it!

Are you freakin serious, haven’t we been here already???? Yes but this time it is in the middle of the night and it doesn’t have anything to do with poop.

We, Santa Clause (I know I know, keep reading) and I are on the couch watching a movie. Not something we are able to do without hitting pause less than 25 times. So a normal movie takes us about 48 hours to watch. We are watching a new release and starting to get into it. All of a sudden there arouse this little voice so we stopped the movie because we had no choice! It is 11:30 pm and everyone is asleep. Really? Well almost. I hear two little feet hit the floor. I am a mommy that knows the sound of her babies and which is which by just hearing a simple breath or a roll over in the bed (no different from any mommy) and I live with a daddy that has no idea who is who until they are right in his face but this is mostly due to selective hearing (a disease all married men will eventually contract. Its not necessarily terminal but it can be if you smack them hard enough). I figure out immediately that this is the boy child. I hear his feet hit the tile floor in the bathroom…. then, silence. I sit there wondering if I was wrong, (NEVER happens. Hey you can write it any way you want when YOU have a kingdom) was it the girl because I didn’t hear the lid slam down with only the force and fervor my little bull in a china shop can muster. Then he yells, “mommy, it is getting everywhere and I cannot stop it”. I fly up the stairs …ok lets go to the ever-popular Christmas poem for the remainder of this story.

And what to my wondering eyes should I see,

but a tiny little boy who was covered in pee.

He was dazed and confused I could see from the door,

had his top hat on with his undies at the floor.

I tried not to laugh as he started to cry

because everything was wet, nothing was dry.

He had pee’d on the toilet and also the wall.

He had sprayed the towels, the counter and some of the hall.

He even hit his chest and the tip of his nose

yes he was dripping from his head to his toes.

The victim of an innocent thing his sister did,

she got up to pee and then put down the lid.

When he went to go and started his stream

both lids were down so he stated to scream.

A girl can stop but a boy cannot,

a lesson learned the hard way by this precious little tot.

I picked up the rug and tossed it to dad

then hugged the boy child because he now was mad!

Through laughter I hugged him and to his chagrin,

I squeezed him so tightly he pissed on MY chin.

This made him feel better and he started to laugh,

looked up and said “mommy now we both need a bath”.

We will do it tomorrow don’t worry about that

And I scooped up the boy wearing only a top hat.

Clean underwear on and tucked safely in bed, I came back downstairs and to my king said. All is well with the twins my dear Mr. Clause now lets watch the movie, thanks for hitting pause!

Spring Break comes to Mommy Town. Things you DO NOT want to hear!

 Spring Break 2010 comes to Mommy Town

Things you DO NOT want to hear!!!

1.     Mommy the paper in the toilet won’t go down and the water is really cold on my feet!  Can you come help me?  You damn skippy son I am on my way. 

         

Go upstairs to find boy child standing in front of the toilet with his drawers (that is southern for underwear) at his ankles and his slash style top hat on with water running over the toilet onto his feet and the floor.  Add a few little brown pellets rolling over the side and yes folks we have a party!  I go in up to my elbow and start pulling toilet paper out of the toilet along with about 25 little turds, while trying to turn the water off all at the same time.  Boy do I know how to have fun or what?  Boy child goes “Mommy those brown things are mine but I have NO IDEA how all that toilet paper got there, are you happy at me?”  Still standing in the water with his drawers at his ankles and his top hat on giggling at me.  I finally get to the end of the mass of toilet paper he has shoved into the toilet.  If there is an ass big enough to need this much Charmin I DO NOT want to see it!  The toilet begins to suck back the little turds and water much like the ocean does its storm surge after a category 4 hurricane.  Mommy is not holding on to the paper tight enough so the toilet sucks it back and it clogs again.  I say SHIT and son please move back so I can get all this cleaned up.  I go for the water valve again and drop my knee right on a runaway turd.  Yep its getting fun now!  Boy child says “ mommy, now you have really made a mess.”  Realizing that in his world this is entirely my fault.   I slip and hit my chin on the toilet. Which makes me stand up and say F*#k it!  You guessed it folks… I step on yet another runaway turd.  Finally I reach down and grab all the paper out of the toilet with a fury and let all the remaining contents drain into the abyss.  Stand up and sling the wad of toilet paper towards the tub!  Clean up the floor, throw the rugs in the garbage and look at boy child, aka slash, standing in the tub watching me, then I see the mass of toilet paper I tossed, sticking to the side of the tub SO close to his head it actually makes me laugh.  He says “boy mommy that was close.”  I say you are right little man next time don’t use so much ok?  He says,” you got it mommy, I love you and you are the best mommy I have ever had!”  Love my life J

                                                       

2.    Mommy this toothpaste does not taste right, I think something is wrong with it. 

   

This one is all me, my fault straight out of the gate.  Tired from not very much sleep, which seems to be the situation on a regular basis. I fixed the toothbrush for the girl child.  She started brushing her teeth and being the intelligent child she is, she let me know something was rotten in Denmark!  Well it seems mommy of the year picked up the Boudreaux’s butt paste instead of the Dora the Explorer Colgate toothpaste and loaded her toothbrush up!  Good thing she didn’t tell me her whoohaa (that is what we call it to avoid the V word) was hurting.  Chances are Colgate on the cooter would have sent us straight to the doctor with some serious explaining to do.  Good thing DSS doesn't have a desk at the local pediatricians office. Yep I am watching the door for my mommy of the year award to show up.  Stellar morning in this castle.

3.    Mommy I love you but I don’t want to live here right now.  Can you call    Gammy and Gaga to see when they are going to come pick me up? Oh yeah and mommy I will call you when I am ready for you to pick me up ok?

Don't you love getting the don't call me, I'll call you from your children?  How could I argue with this very smart young child who was trying to get out while the getting was good.  My sentiment was, sure honey I will be happy to do that just as soon as I pack all my things because right now I don't really want to live here either.  4 days and counting until spring break 2010 is over!!!

 

 

The Wife The Ring and The Masters.

Woke up in a fowl mood this morning (laid out chicken for dinner...play on words and all.) no wonder I woke up ill (that's southern for mad as hell)...I do not recall falling asleep. For some reason lately sleep seems to be eluding me. (Will post about that later) So not only am I the walking wounded, counter productive, sluggish and mainlining coffee...I am also in a really bad mood. Throw a little PMS in the mix and you can color me a carbon based life form in major need of an attitude adjustment.
Status update, for you face bookers... Queen is: PWP (posting while pms-ing) or would that be for twitter? I don't twitter!

So watching the Today show this morning...a 20-minute segment on Tiger Woods returning to Golf. Will Elin be with him and will she be wearing her ring? No Shit...this was a major news story. Healthcare system in shambles, war going on ...well not really a war anymore...you know just our troops over in foreign lands hanging out, defusing bombs, protecting people who some of which do not want them there or care that they are there, sleeping in tents, dealing with sand storms and god forbid, huge spiders and snakes. 3 children in our country (that we know of) are missing, car accidents are happening because Toyota cannot figure out how to actually make a car run and stop the way it is suppose to. Now Honda jumps on gas pedal or brake bandwagon, our economy sucks ass...and a major news story is The Wife the Ring and The Masters?? I love Matt Lauer and will continue to do so because I am choosing to believe that he saw THIS little goody on the docket and said to his producers...hell no make Meredith or Anne talk about that bullshit! Where in the world is Matt Lauer? Somewhere covering a story people will actually give a shit about!

Don't get me wrong I feel sorry for Elin and all because what happened to her would suck out loud. But hey, nothing like multiple millions of dollars to make a bride feel a wee bit better about her husband getting busted for slamming about 18 holes in one news segment. I feel sorry for him too, two and half months in rehab for sexual addiction must have sucked. Or would it blow?? Blow is only an expression so it must have sucked! Yeah that's it...moving on now...hold on... isn't rehab for quitters? Boy, do you look forward to graduating from that program or what??? Do you really want to stay with a man who should carry the tag line...SEX...? JUST SAY NO. Wait, that’s drugs...thank you Nancy Regan... and it would be SEX JUST SAY NO. TO GOUPIES (that’s golf groupies)...I digress...which I am good at. Then to have to go on the news...which made all sorts of ridiculous people who are suppose to be working for the man...post pictures of their offices...sitting down around conference tables watching his "little ditty” Way to be productive middle America. Oh come on kicking a brotha while is down is straight up fun! This is when I felt sorry for Tiger because he looked more like a lamb...the sacrificial kind, than a Big time golfer... Like a wild Indian looking for a place to take shit.... not a comfortable place to be I would imagine. How come when the average man who thinks he is a God, a Rock Star, and gift to all women decides to go offshore drilling... no one wants him to do a news conference? BUT we do all want to watch his sorry ass go down in divorce court now don't we...hell yeah we do.... we hope you end up on food stamps to you dirt dick!

Back to today's segment. The news folks with gleams in their eyes talked about Tiger making his come back...come on 2 month out of the media doesn't really classify as a come back but ok... He will come back at the Masters and will Elin be there...and more importantly will she be wearing her ring. Hell I for one would be more interested in whether or not she is wearing underwear...and if she is a shaver or a waxer???? But they really wanted to know if she would be wearing her ring. Skip to Photography meetings in Augusta...goes something like this... Now, people we don't care about clothing, who else is there, or the game of golf...because after all someone will win and get that hideous green jacket ...that my friends is a foregone conclusion.... so what we want, is for you to focus on is the left hand of the wife of the promiscuous putter himself. Not the right hand, we don't care if she is wearing Yurman, Hardy or a mood ring on the other hand just the left hand, fourth finger... got it? The digit that contains the artery connection that takes it to the heart. (AKA THE ring finger). Any Questions? Ok, you in the back....new guy, waz your question? What if she is carrying the baby? Fuck the kids, we all got um...we only want to be the first to get the shot of the ring or the empty finger...got it...good now lets get out there and stalk some people.

Here is how the morning went....

Meanwhile...back at the mansion.... Somewhere in Augusta... in a crazy big house (on that golf course. of course) that a family moved out of.... empties of everything. Redecorates and rents out to a humble millionaire for a week, of his or her life, at the masters. Elin is getting dressed. Kids...mommy needs some help.... should I wear the white shorts. (Elin thinks to self...is the masters after Easter??) The masters is in the south bitch it better be if you plan on wearing white shorts...cause WE don't care how they do it in Sweden. We will talk about your ass even if your husband was caught diddling the Pope! Should I wear pink shirt, red shirt (blondes look great in red) tennis shoes, Jimmy Choo's or croc's (do people wear those anymore? Hair up or down, baseball cap? Yes no? Come on guys I need some help; this is a big day for daddy! Earrings. Hoops or diamonds? Fast-forward 2 hours later. Mommy is dressed and is a pretty picture of Swedish beauty I am betting. Breakfast is over, house is cleaned up, expensive sunglasses are on face and babies are loaded into rented range rover. While starting car...kids scream MOMMY juice boxes...don't forget (mine scream this...maybe hers do????) Shit, says Elin...lemme get out and get them, mommy almost forgot. While reaching for the handle of the refrigerator that is in the garage.... she notices HAH, I don't have my rings on.... damn, he did cheat...should I wear the ring, will anyone notice, what will they think...am I forgiving him, will they like me if I do, damn is the ring clean? Do I have time for that.... damn it...the whole world of golf feels sorry for his punk ass...lemme go get the ring, I so don't have time for this.... comes back, jumps in rover... kids... MOMMY… GET THE JUICE BOXES!!!! Elin...jeez with the juice boxes... opens the frig (and you bet your sweet ass its the swedish, energy saving kind) looks in.see's all the way to the back... NO FREAKIN JUICE BOXES... kids, we are out of juice boxes, sweeties mommy is so sorry...kids ... lose their shit, scream, cry, pitch proverbial fits, and cut mommy Elin NO slack... stressing mommy out and making her feel like a loser for running out of such a key item to the life and moods of a toddler. Elin says to herself.... damn...we are running so late, I will never get a parking place now... FUCK IT I AM NOT GOING TO THE MASTERS!!! Must go grocery shopping instead...because someone in this family has to have their priorities on the right green.
There in lies the news story.... no big deal right.... wearing your jewelry or not doesn't really factor into the life of a busy mom for more than a fleeting moment while she quickly moves on to what really counts. Sure wish the media could do this!

Plague of Biblical Proportions

The illness so bad I thought I was going to have to sacrifice something to the gods of wellness for obvious reasons.  Zero'd in on a neighbor's dog...now don't go all highbrow on me, thats my job...I am only kidding anyway,  it simply flew out of the fevered mind of a sick, dehydrated and really tired mommy and landed on an inconsiderate neighbor and the dog he lets crap on my yard.

Read on…

Most folks I meet seem to take themselves and what they have to say VERY seriously, this holds true for the women in my family.  When these women I speak of  are very serious about what they have to say, the diatribe will begin with the statement, “Let me tell you something”!  When you hear this, the stance you may be looking at from aforementioned women will be rock solid with both feet planted firmly on the ground (sitting or standing position) and will also include either a tilted head, a raised eyebrow (but only one) an index finger pointed at you, or with a merit ultra light hanging from the right side of the lip and a tumbler containing ice water and a flexible straw in hand, god rest my grandmother’s soul.  I, on the other hand rarely mean what I say in the serious tense so when I call the recent sickness to converge upon our home as the plague of biblical proportions, I am OF COURSE speaking tongue in cheek.  The funny thing about this is the way people takethat statement.  You can tell the religious affiliation of a person when you say this in front of them.  The catholic will smile painfully but feel guilty.  The Episcopalian laughs wholeheartedly, no guilt there.  The Methodist and Presbyterians will smile, ask you who your mother was before she was married and pray for you and finally, the southern Baptist, bless their hearts……crickets!  Raised southern Baptist, I am now Disciples of Christ, which is Christian although some folks seem to think it’s the kind of church you have to bring a live snake or chicken with you to service.  Not true and quite the opposite, we are merely a combination of affiliations gathering together for the common purpose.  We laugh, tell jokes, dance, wear short pants, we have been known to show our shoulders in church, some of us drink and we take communion at our seats with grape juice and wafers AND we willfully admit to all the above.

 Now back to the plague of biblical proportions, aka the doc Holiday hack, the death rattle, the snot rot, the disease to displease, puke fest 2010, and the Katmandu quickstep.  Just when I say “this is the sickest I have ever been” my body raises the bar.  I started out with the noro-virus, which kept me in the bathroom puking my guts out for 7 and a half hours followed by 4 days of the worst gas, bloating and cramps a human being can have without giving birth to an alien comprised primarily of excrement.  If I had ever thought of myself as a lady, believe you me this illness presented me with the hard fact THAT title does not nor will it ever apply to me.  I awakened on the 4^th day feeling as though my head had been hollowed out and filled with a cactus plant full of fire ants.  I could not smell, hear or see.  I stumbled to the bathroom, looked in the mirror and saw what appeared to be staring back at me as the face and hair of a crack whore.  My husband made me feel, well lets say better?  by saying  “No sweetheart, I have seen one of those up close and you are not her” Nice I thought, a beautiful exchange between me and the man legally bound to love me for better or worse AND in the process of doing so in sickness rather than health. To be clear and to clear the name of the most wonderful man on earth, I was ok with this because I know the crack whore of which he was speaking and there was definitely no crack of any kind shared between them...Jon is simply not that kind and you know, just say no and all.  I went in, got dressed, brushed my teeth (because I was sure my breath would turn a funeral procession quickly down an alley) and sped across town to the doctor.  I was told that not only did I have noro-virus I was also the proud owner of a double ear infection, pink eye in both eyes, a sinus infection, and a head cold.  I looked at her trying to help me without touching me and said Is that all?  To which she replied, Isn’t that enough Queenie?  I said "well for this week it is but I am guessing the antibiotic you are going to give me will be strong enough to cure Alaska of of its republicans so can you please give me some monostat to go along with it?  Because I have the feeling I am going to need it! (If you are reading this and don't understand... then you are either the dumbest female ever, to young to be here, or a man... and in the last case... don't ask)  I then went to the drug store and purchased all my prescriptions, gatoraide, pedilyte (in case the twins get it) ibuprophen, cough medicine, Sudafed, hard candy(because my throat felt like it had an asphalt highway being poured into it), cotton balls, water and some crackers.  My ears hurt so bad that I cracked open the ear drops and poured them into my ears before I left the parking lot, then drove home like a cow staring at a new gate with my head all  tilted to the side.  I did not even care that people were looking at me and trust me, they were! When I pulled into the garage I looked into the rear view mirror and there was that damn crack whore again…sunglasses perched on top of baseball cap, which was turned to the side with the bill pointing at the driver’s window. …think hip hop. 

My hair was matted to my head because shower?  No way, to sick.  I looked like someone you would see in the slammer magazine or on the smoking gun’s website. …think Nick Nolte mugshot!

  I am sure I smelled like someone you would find at your local DMV office.  I got home, went to bed and woke up hoping the next day would be better, nope still felt like shit.   

 

Who ya gon call..we needed help up in here….

 

I would not even allow the red cross or FEMA in this house for fear of a lawsuit but we needed help. We were low on supplies, my parents were sick with it also and the natives were getting restless so several days later in the jungle, mommy sent up a smoke signal in the form of an email to best friend.  She came to the rescue with groceries!  Left them on the front porch( as instructed) with a check slid through the door like payment for a drug drop…Quick, she’s gone now open the door get in the goods!  We may never see or hear from the outside world again so thank god for the cokes and cream of wheat and the best friend.  Just then a lady from our church called.  I answered the phone, which is something I am not good at even when I feel well...... she wanted to chat.  I did not! I listened as long as my patience would allow, which was about 2 minutes, then I said I am sorry but we are all sick and will not be at church to help with this item.  We will see you when we feel better, if that ever happens but I think we are dealing with the plague of biblical proportions here and I must go.  Silence from the church lady for a moment, then laughed then said feel better and hung up.  Perfect answer! I went back to bed. That brings me to the plague, the sacrifice and the dog.  Neighbor behind me walks his 10 pound dog several times a day.... and each time he lets the dog relieve himself in the same place in my yard.  I have wished death and dismemberment on this dog so many times that a sacrifice seems weak.  I was looking out the window wondering if anyone would miss me, if this affliction truly was a plague and everyone was dying and if I even had the energy to get better.  Then, walking up the street, comes the neighbor and the dog.  Yes the one who lets the little bastard crap in my yard several times a day.  There in lies the sacrifice....cannot kill the neighbor because I would never survive a trial or prison as badly as I was feeling.  SO just go after the dog....I thought of the bible (because God please help me I am so sick) then the plague ( locusts, sickness etc) then a sacrifice to the gods... in my case, the ones of wellness ( blood painted on the doors..passover and sparing those participants).  I  think you get the picture.  My mom called, I tried to verbalize this to her as a metaphor of how sick I was ..... she said "Let me tell you something, you shouldn't joke about such a thing."   I hung up the phone and crawled into bed.