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I don’t commute to work, because I’m always there…

So, I quit my “glamourous” job 5 months ago, and became a full-time mommy.  It’s amusing how people think I sit on my ass all day and eat bonbons (not sure if those even exist).

I’m literally wiping shit, cleaning, and cooking all day.  ALL DAY.  ALL DAY.  ALL DAY.

I know when my child grows up, and writes her first mother’s day questionnaire at school… she will say my favorite thing to do is cook and wash dishes.  Let me tell you, that couldn’t be further from the truth.  Unfortunately, I was blessed with being a good cook.  My grandma always says thats the worst thing to be known for… reason being… everyone wants you to cook for them, and that is definitely the truth!

Grandma says it’s better to be known for being a “sex pot” because then all you have to do is lay on your back with your feet up.

God, that crazy lady is hilarious.  I could never say that to my daughter… that little nugget is definitely learning to cook.  By the way, my grandma is a phenomenal cook, and I DID let her know that “sex pots” do way more then lay on their back.

Don’t get me wrong, I do get an occasional nap.  I think I had one about 6 weeks ago.

So this is it, this is what I thought would be tennis and manicures… ha, I need to be a stay-at-home mom with full-time help.  That is the image everyone assumes this role is anyways,

 

Boys will be boys

I would call them men, as “they” consist of my husband, father, and father’s friend… however, I ask you a simple question…

Do men play with flares or must they be boys?

I guess they are boys at heart, because let’s face it.. my father has a maturity age of 7 normally.  My husband is more mature, but easily influenced by the 7 year old.  As for my father’s friend… he was drunk, so I will guess his age at 4.

The expired flares from the boat… what do we do with them?

Well, we light them off and make a smokey, fuckin’ mess.  Fortunately, the ones that shoot didn’t go off (which I’m guessing is why there is an expiration date).  Picture it.. three grown ass men armed with one flare each.  At the dock, signally to the approaching thunderstorms.  Definitely shear genius (sarcastic eye-roll).

Do you know what’s worse than taking care of a hurt child?  If you’re a woman, you probably guessed it… taking care of a hurt man.  Fortunately, everyone left with all their fingers, and a few little burns.

Boys will always be boys...