So, my life is full of tragedy this week. Not tragic tragedy, fear not. Just little crappy annoyances that make me shout a little of the Bee Gees hit. I really do that. You use the word tragedy in a sentence, and unless someone died, there is a 97% chance that I will sing Tragedy.
I have a song for most occasions. When the words hit me just right, I always know exactly what to sing. This does not impress everyone. Some people scream, "NO! Don't!" as I start to sing , "I'm down with OPP" when Super Z says, " I've gotta go Peepee." I am not sure what is wrong with those people. Everyone loves a song...right?
But I ramble, back to the tragedies:
- My boss once again assumes that I am a miracle worker and sends me back a truckload of work with just three days to go until the end of the month. Why would she do this? It is a test. She tests me, I get it done, she tests me more. How will it end? One month will my head blow right off my shoulders because I. CANNOT. MISS. A. DEADLINE?
- Princess H had little scratches all over her pretty wrist. I love her wrist. I like to kiss them. I don't know what happened. When I questioned her Father I got the blank stare of the brain dead. Tragedy, I say.
- Super Z outgrew his camouflage pants. When I blast him for growing he just laughs and says that he plans to continue doing it...What the crap? What am I supposed to do, just sit back and watch as my baby who hasn't outgrown a thing in two years turns into a clothes outgrowing machine?? I guess so. When I pretended to cry and asked him what we would do about the camo pants he gently patted me and explained, " You get bigger ones, Mommy. It will be okay."
- I do not like spaghetti anymore. I have to break this to Randy. As suddenly as my love affair with spaghetti began 5 years ago, when I was pregnant with Z, it has now come to a screeching halt. This will surely break Randy's heart. I am running out of excuses for why I am eating something other than spaghetti for supper. Tragedy.
- I have more gray hair than my Mother.
- I am getting a wrinkle on my forehead. I saw it in that picture I posted with my pillow. Sigh...
- I want to get a real tree this year and Randy hates them!!!!! Any ideas for how I can bring him around?
9 comments:
Love the song for every occasion! That's too funny. I'm just a hummer... I can't remember a lyric for the life of me!! Sorry to hear you're having such a tragic week already... and it's only Monday. Here's to magically cloning yourself, healed wrists, shrinking children (my boy doesn't WANT to get bigger... if only I could keep him small), a new "spaghetti", hair dye (I have plenty of it myself... dang dad genes), disappearing wrinkles, and understanding husbands! :) Here's to having a better rest of the week! :)
I'm going to be strutting around to 'Tragedy' in my head all day now - falsetto and all! Thanks!
Don't get a real tree they are a nightmare! We're getting a fake one this year ha ha!
When we left MI we left our old tree on the curb. Then by the time I found time to look for a new one all of the good ones were sold. Hence, our first REAL tree.
OMG, it was a miserable experience. First, 14 foot of tree is hard to get home or in the house. Second that thing started dropping needles before a day was up. I think it was scared of us.
We got our new one at Hobby Lobby for 40% off. Got visit and forget the REAL tree. Please, I beg you!
What wrinkle? I remember thinking that you and your daughter have the cutest faces. You both look so alike.
Don't worry about the wrinkles...they indicate character. At least, that's what I tell myself. And I've got more gray hair than you do, so...
I understand the appeal of a real tree, but we have an artificial one that is amazingly lifelike, doesn't drop needles, and is fire retardant. I like it, and I never thought I'd like an artificial tree.
I got that built in "find a song for every situation" thing in my brain, too. At least it amuses me. And you!
Sorry for your tragedies!
Stick with the artificial tree, if you are a busy girl. Yeah, real ones smell nice, but they are a PAIN IN THE BUTTOCKS! Can you have a real one outside? So it doesnt make a mess in your house? We have a fake one inside, but a real one outside. Decorated and everything!
Oh Serina, you crack me up. Freaking boss. @#@@!!
The only real help I can give you here is on the Christmas tree. Tell Randy you'll temporarily forego that new baby you were dreaming about last week if you get a real tree.
Bribery, it works every time!
P.S. I can't pull my grays out either anymore. *Le sigh*
Oh, S. We're twinkies today. We're both raging. I always have a song or a movie quote to go with what I'm thinking. You wrote OPP & I'm going, "Yah. You know me." I'll be happy to finish them for you whenever you need a hand.
Tell Randy that he won't get any pressies otherwise.
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