You got her number? I need her bad;)!!
( I am joking, of course )
Just curious - was her arrangement better? Realizing that is almost totally subjective, but sometimes I do things because that’s the way I’ve always done them, until a better way is pointed out.
Yeah, I guess her way was “better”, however it wasn’t sustainable given that I just throw stuff in the refrigerator without a thought.
After the past month including one kid being sick, other kid injuring her knee, husband with a kidney stone, and spring break, I was finally looking forward to a quiet week this week: kids in school and everyone healthy*.
Instead I came down with the cold virus from hell on Sunday and have been feeling like crap since then. Boo.
*Husband still has kidney stone as the ultrasound procedure did not break up the stone, but that’s another rant. At least it’s not bothering him right now.
My brother passed away at age 39 from colon cancer. No family history. First doctor he saw told him it was only hemorrhoids. Wish someone would have insisted on the colonoscopy. He left behind a wife and three young children. Please – have the colonoscopy.
To my son: do your fucking schoolwork. And if you have schoolwork left over at the end of the day, then it magically becomes homework whether the teacher assigns it to you or not. I don’t give a shit if she didn’t say the words. Your job is to sit down and do that shit before you do anything else.
Oh, and getting pissed at me for “letting” you fail one of your classes isn’t going to cut it. You didn’t do the work. I asked about it. You still didn’t do it. It was haaaard. Yes, it was hard. But it is also incumbent on you to tell me that when you still have a fucking chance to do the work, not when the grade is final. And no, that’s not “too hard a lesson” for an 11 year old. It’s reality.
If you’re going to fail, you might as well do it now. Your grade won’t count on a high school transcript, and you probably feel way shittier than I could’ve made you feel. You’re welcome. Now do your fucking homework while I sit here in a corner, all knotted up inside because being a good mom sometimes feels like being a shitty one.
I felt shitty too. The lil’wrekker tried that on me about age 12. It coincided with her first iPhone. So I blamed that and promptly pried it from her hand. Even the teacher told me I needed to help her at home more. Look lady it’s your job to teach, not mine, teach the lesson give her homework if you must, I will see she has a place and time to do the homework. And that’s all. I took the phone away and was Miss Meanie Mom for a whole semester. Do your job and I’ll do mine.
I quit feeling shitty about it when she learned her lesson and was more responsible about doing her homework. It took 9 weeks. The A on the report card got the phone back in her hand.
So, I have thought about buying neighbor treats she could feed our dogs, but I don’t really trust her to limit herself to the allowed limit.
I thought about what would happen to a dog or cat that I left in her hands and shuddered thinking about the resulting furry bowling ball. I finally gave up and introduced her to Tony. I am a horrible, evil and rotten person, but sometimes you gots to do what you gots to do.
They took to each other right away. It was a match made in hell, senile/deaf but nice 70 year old lady and a batshit crazy 60 year old man who obviously never had anyone to cook for him. Tony also is a hoarder who probably can’t even find his stove under the empty pet food bags that he might need to use to bag garbage. She has someone to feed, he has someone who nods happily while he’s telling her that the world is going to end in 2 weeks because of gobernment idiocy or whatever.
I know that he won’t physically hurt her, and he won’t take advantage of her. He will allow her to feed him 3 or 4 times a day, but if it makes her happy is that really taking advantage of her.
Yes, I am trying to get you folks to help me validate my choice to throw Tony at the poor old lady to stop her from feeding our hounds.
They are gonna double team you, for sure. You may have created evil incarnate. Hide your dogs and board up the windows. You may have to move. 
Considering that you’re never more than a terrified shriek away, I’m inclined to vote “No.”
Here ya go.
ETA: honestly, either I had never known, or it slipped my mind that you had brought Tony to Texas with you. You’re a good person, flatlined.
Whenever I started asking Middlebro about his homework, Littlebro would do his own without direct prompting; Middlebro was likely to forget one subject or two (mainly anything which wasn’t due the next day), Littlebro didn’t.
Eventually Littlebro had his Year from Hell in college, went “oops, so THIS is why Sis insisted so much on timely work”, eventually recovered the GPA and has stayed generally prompt since (on occasion he needs a kick to the butt). Middlebro still sucks at timeliness but I think his inner clock’s broken, he’s also one of those people who says “I’ll be there at 2” when they mean “I’ll start to think about going there at half past 2”.
Sometimes I wonder if children would have given me the same feeling of “he’s so much like me and so much unlike me” I sometimes get from these two. In many ways I know them as if I’d changed their diapers (oh wait, I did); in others, they’ll always be alien. It took me more than 40 years to understand that Middlebro and I see time as differently as an owl and I see light.
All kids are different. When mine were born, I felt like they handed me a little alien, especially my first. But they tend to grow on you. By the time they are 2 you see the distinct personality of each, maybe sooner if you are careful about watching for it. It always amazes me when my DIL and daughter say they don’t understand why their kids do certain things. I try to stay out of the disciplining of my grandkids, but I have had several “I could’ve told you so” moments that I kept under my hat.
Darling man of mine. As there are 2 of us using the shower at home, perhaps we could BOTH take a turn cleaning out the hair catcher in the drain. Or is that too far for you to bend?
Only if he also has long hair. Short hairs really don’t catch.
It’s not the hair so much as the shower induced honkers - EWWW
This is where I remind myself not to ask questions for which I don’t want to know the answer.
Depending on the type of plug installed in the drain, short hair can eventually create a clog. Or there’s something else down there catching all the hair… (I once found the remains of an Allen wrench and a plastic baggie in a sluggish shower drain.)
Hey, this isn’t the “April glowers bring clogged showers” thread. I’m getting creeped out, and can even feel your slick hairballs between my fingers… Ewwww.
Presumably, The Clown wants to cuts labor costs by having the customer take their own order and pay for it, but there’s still the employee dealing out the grub behind the counter. The employee stands there, doing nothing, as up to 5 customers fuck about trying to navigate the ordering menu. And the system is not all that intuitive (I was dead certain I’d ordered a drink, but forgot to … do something, I guess). THEN it gives you a number and queues you further–go sit down, and someone will bring your grub to you… JESUS…Why? So, I have to touch this goddamned ordering pad with my eatin’ hands, that’s been poked and groped by hundreds of other people’s booger-pickin, dick-whacking, roadkill shuffling, poo-flinging, meth-cooking hands, so that the person who would normally be standing behind the counter efficiently taking my order, turning around and selecting my chow from the chute and handing it to me, can instead select my chow from the chute and walk it to my table? How much time does that save exactly?
Totally unrelated: I hope McDonalds has to sit on a congressional hearing someday. And I hope they send someone dressed up like Ronald McDonald.
Dear Beckman Coulter, I hate you. Your account numbers are nineteen fucking digits long. Your website won’t bring up the product I have ordered before. Your customer service people are forced to verify my credit card number by having me repeat it instead of them repeating it to me. You struggle every time to find my ship-to address. Your packing slips look like short novels. I hope your products are wonderful because everything else about your company gives me the shits.
Also: I joined an online discussion a few years ago entitled, “She’s Come Undone: why does everyone hate this wonderful novel?” Every now and then someone will add a post to the discussion, and without fail, the comment will be, “I loved this book!” Well, thanks for the nothingburger, lady.
Don’t mind me, I’m just bitchy because I had to deal with Beckman Coulter.