Fuck You and The Horse You Rode in On...
And yes, I can end my title in a preposition. I so fucking can I tell you. Why? Because I'm posting and you sorry suck-asses should just be fucking grateful that I've put the meat sausage down long enough to post. SO THERE. Speaking of meat sausage (as opposed to vegetarian sausage) Teddy Bear commented on my last post and I figured I would save you the time and just post it here:
Chicken is in a play, starting tomorrow with two shows at a local elementary school and then the main show Saturday night. It is 101 Dalmatians and he plays the part of Pongo, the daddy dog. He's really super duper excited about it, and his rehearsals are taking up a huge chunk of his time. The relevant part starts... now. I went to the dress rehearsal yesterday to help corral the kids and found myself stuck with over 25 "Chickens". When the little fuckers realized that I was capable of coherent speech AND would listen to them I was inundated with animated "blah blah blah" from all sides. I found myself listening to a young girl describe the glories of a Chinese buffet in Las Vegas. Great. Really. Interesting. Wow.
You must realize (MUST!!) that I love Chicken dearly and can deal with his animated storytelling for minutes on end. But a whole cast of "Chickens" was overwhelming and enlightening all at once. This is where my son belongs. I just don't want to be there with him, unless they invent something that will take the sting out of all the noise and confusion and TALKING. Something like alcohol, but without the motor function impairment. I tried Xanax, however the amount of Xanax needed to render me peaceful in that type of situation would result in a mild coma. I'm sure that would also be considered motor function impairment. At this point, I must leave the stage mothering to my mother. She's an old pro at it.
Speaking of stage mothers, I met a lovely mother yesterday at the dress rehearsal. She was friendly and nice and quite talkative. Just as I was about to chew my face off in order to end the polite conversation Chicken asked for help on his homework. He is studying the states (of the United type) and capitals and water bodies and shit. The mother asked him "Where is New England?" When he not only pointed it out but shaded in the original 13 colonies and started a dissertation on the phenomenon that is New England she was amazed. Not at his breadth of knowledge but at the location of New England. "Wow, it's so far away! Why is it called New England?" Oh. My. Gawd.
So that's that in the life of Sam. Baby Z threw his first real temper tantrum today, complete with laying on the ground and flailing about whilst crying for no apparent reason. Great stuff I tell you. It's a wonderful life.
TB said...What Teddy Bear left out was his 103° fever which on a good evening was reduced to 101° after taking a shitload of ibuprofen. I believe that gives me every reason to go into "super overdrive housewife mode" dammit. I was stressed. Can you imagine a 6'3" 250+ pound man dying in your house? How the fuck would you get him out? Exactly. So it was only in my best interest to A) keep him alive and/or B) keep the house clean in case he died and I needed to call the police to remove his corpse.
it's my fault, i've been sick, and sam has been wonderful enought to take care of me, which somehow flipped her into super overdrive housewife mode, and she went crazy with chores, taking care of chicken, etc.
she'll be back,
- "teddy bear"
Chicken is in a play, starting tomorrow with two shows at a local elementary school and then the main show Saturday night. It is 101 Dalmatians and he plays the part of Pongo, the daddy dog. He's really super duper excited about it, and his rehearsals are taking up a huge chunk of his time. The relevant part starts... now. I went to the dress rehearsal yesterday to help corral the kids and found myself stuck with over 25 "Chickens". When the little fuckers realized that I was capable of coherent speech AND would listen to them I was inundated with animated "blah blah blah" from all sides. I found myself listening to a young girl describe the glories of a Chinese buffet in Las Vegas. Great. Really. Interesting. Wow.
You must realize (MUST!!) that I love Chicken dearly and can deal with his animated storytelling for minutes on end. But a whole cast of "Chickens" was overwhelming and enlightening all at once. This is where my son belongs. I just don't want to be there with him, unless they invent something that will take the sting out of all the noise and confusion and TALKING. Something like alcohol, but without the motor function impairment. I tried Xanax, however the amount of Xanax needed to render me peaceful in that type of situation would result in a mild coma. I'm sure that would also be considered motor function impairment. At this point, I must leave the stage mothering to my mother. She's an old pro at it.
Speaking of stage mothers, I met a lovely mother yesterday at the dress rehearsal. She was friendly and nice and quite talkative. Just as I was about to chew my face off in order to end the polite conversation Chicken asked for help on his homework. He is studying the states (of the United type) and capitals and water bodies and shit. The mother asked him "Where is New England?" When he not only pointed it out but shaded in the original 13 colonies and started a dissertation on the phenomenon that is New England she was amazed. Not at his breadth of knowledge but at the location of New England. "Wow, it's so far away! Why is it called New England?" Oh. My. Gawd.
So that's that in the life of Sam. Baby Z threw his first real temper tantrum today, complete with laying on the ground and flailing about whilst crying for no apparent reason. Great stuff I tell you. It's a wonderful life.
posted by Sam at
7:41 PM
10 Comments:
I was picturing Chicken in the play and I said (outloud) "Awh thats so cute"
Sorry about TB being sick..hope he is feeling better. He is lucky to have such a hot nurse!
My son was in a play this past summer. It was Shakespeare. "A Comedy of Errors" to be exact. He totally rocked. Stole the show, even. The boy's got talent.
I am highly amused at your torment dealing with the very chatty mother, though. I don't know why. I think it's imagining how you would have been standing there with a very pleasant smile on your face, but inside you were doing a fine impression of The Scream by Edvard Munch, which is regarded as "an icon of existential anguish."
Theres a NEW England?
Gosh.
Next thing your gonna tell me is that they have a newer Mexico too.
Puh-leez.
This post has been removed by a blog administrator.
Anna - we have a newer York, too. In fact, there's two of them. One's a city and one's a state. Weird, inn't it?
Glad to have you back. I understand about the tpp ,amy 'Chickens'! I feel that way with too many Guses, sometimes. There is only so much precociousness one can take.
That's why I am glad I am a mother to sons. Girls want to talk too much!
Hope Teddy Bear feels better soon.
You know, I love my kids, and I want them to be in stuff and have friends, but I'm not real good at dealing with more than two or three at a time. hehe.
Don't you just hate meeting really dumb people?
Baby Z flailing about and everything, huh? That's always fun. ;)
I LOVE the title to your post. I actually said that phrase to a cow-worker of mine when I was telling him about a customoron that pissed me off. I thought my cow-worker was gonna piss himself laughing. He was doubled over with laughter with tears streaming down his cheeks and kept saying "OH MY GAWD!!! and the horse you rode in on!!!" I don't think he had ever heard me say the F word.
PS Don't you just hate stupidity??? I see it everyday. I wonder sometimes how some people can actually function in life!!!
Chicken could probably teach history at a university right now. That mother should most definitely be in his class.
I've been absent (puter probs) but I'm glad you're posting. And that you don't have to dispose of TB's corpse.
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