Friday, February 25, 2011

Just One Day

We know we're lucky.  We spend a lot of time sweating the small stuff.  Stuff that's annoying but ultimately unimportant.  We whine too much.  We have friends who have special needs kiddos or husbands deployed or other serious stuff to deal with.  And do they whine?  Maybe a little.  But at least they've earned it. 

We on the other hand are just flabby losers who need to vent about about the idiotic things we suspect that everyone deals with every day. The stupid small stuff that little by little adds up to Mommy Losing Her Schmidt. We're hoping you'll accept this list for what it is and maybe even add to it.  Here goes:

I would like just one day where:
  • I do not have to touch someone else's dookie.  Seriously.  Just one day where everyone goes on the potty, nobody leaves a smear for me to scrub out of underpants or the carpet, or where I have to go looking for it by sniffing around like damn bloodhound while saying 'WHAT IS THAT SMELL?!"
  • No body cries. No crying today! Today is the day of no one crying.  There's no crying in baseball and for one day, there's no crying in my house.

  • There's not a sibling skirmish that results in screaming or a WWE-style cage match.
  • I get enough sleep that I don't wake up looking like the Emperor from Star Wars.
  • No one says, "But I was just..." followed by something incredibly stupid, like "seeing what the dog would look like with duct tape earrings."
  • Small fingers stay out of holes they're not supposed to be in.
  • I don't have to hear about the Wii or Lego Star Wars: The Complete Saga.  Just one day. No Star Wars. Please.
  • Socks and shoes and backpacks find themselves where they're supposed to be without me having to ask fifteen times.  It's not like you can go to school barefoot. In February.  Use your brains, offspring.  Put them on.  For the love of Maude, put them on.
  • I actually get to pee alone.
  • Band-Aids are used for their intended purposes.
  • I don't instantly soak my socks by stepping in huge puddle of....of warm.
  • There's no stomping.
  • There's also no slamming of doors. Or, in McGee's case, the slamming of air.
  • The laundry is actually done and that douche of a laundry fairy Randy goes to someone else's house to pick on them for a while.
  • I am not forced to use half a roll of paper towels to wipe up something that is both viscous and crunchy.
  • The phrase "smell this" is followed by the aroma of something enjoyable.
  • Nothing gets lost, misplaced, or flushed down the toilet. Or half-flushed down...and I get to go toilet snorkeling.
  • My camera on my Precious isn't full of pictures of body parts, specifically the view up your nose. 
  • There's no wheedling or whining. Especially for things that are ca-ray-zee-town.  Like can we go to LegoLand after school? No. It's in California.
  • You don't use my bra as a hat. Or my Tampax as artillery.
  • At the end of the night, I don't have to look at my shirt and say, "Oh, God. What is that?"

(c)Herding Turtles, Inc. 2009 - 2011

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