Thursday, July 29, 2010

The Horribles Awards

When I was in Season One, we went to this -- thing. Some would call it a parade, but a parade involves things like organization and planning and, well, people worthy of being in a parade.

This thing we went to was always on July 3rd. They called it The Horribles Parade.

Girls, it was just. so. awesome. Every random thing you could think of - dogs on unicycles, garage bands in discarded KISS outfits that had somehow turned themselves into a march-able unit, boys that didn't quite make boys scouts but rather some other wilderness group you'd find on the Simpsons, conjoined quadruplets, people who fancied themselves wildebeests, let's-make-a-pact pregnant teenagers, chemists, sixty-eight Easter Bunnies. They were all there. Marching along. With their platform boots and beakers and egg-filled baskets and wombs. Waving at the crowd.

It. Was. The. Best. Parade. Ever.

We'd watch something come traipsing down the street and be like "WHUCK?!?! Bunnies?" But they were so thrilled to be part of this. And, I swear to all that is holy in this world, there was a whole part of the parade dedicated to a clusterf**k of teenage girls who had made a pact to get pregnant together.

So, yesterday I got to thinking, we should have a Horribles Mothers Parade. We could all dress up and march down our street to songs like "We Are Family" and "She's a Bad Mama Jama" and wear signs that say why we are the Best Horrible Mother in any individual category. Like Most Likely to Forget to Pick Kids Up From School, or Worst Dressed Even By Wal-Mart Standards, or Future Visitor On the Other Side of the Glass. And, our kids could watch us stroll by, whether toting along a martini shaker or screaming like the cat woman on the Simpsons...and then look at each other sympathetically and say, "yeah, my mom won for Best Horrible Mother Who's a Drunk" and they'd all nod and say that's what they thought. 

And then there'd be the Best of the Horribles...and it would be Kate. Because she outed everyone in the Horribles Yearbook. 
And the grand prize winner could get a hysterectomy, even though it's WAY too late now. Ummm, woot?

So, here's your chance. Nominate yourself before your kids nominate you. Tell the MommyLand world how and why you're the Worst Mother in the History of Ever (Who Isn't a Felon). As it's Friday, we'll post the Best of the Worst...or is it the Worst of the Best? Include a picture, and you're pretty much guaranteed top billing. Because we're suckers for people who do their own artwork...

I'd like to thank my kids...without whom, none of this is possible. I'd cry, but you had my hormones removed. Fortunately, I replaced them with wine. Boxed wine. Cheers. And, suck it. Losers.

xoxo Kate

(c)Herding Turtles, Inc. 2009 - 2010

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