Because That is Just What I Needed

Apparently, they make glow-in-the-dark Nerf darts.

I have five words for you…

If you have delicate sensibilities, close your ears now…

Last Chance…

Alright, I warned ya.

“Are You F-ing Kidding Me? What F-ing genius thought this was a good idea? He needs to come to my house for a day”

‘Nuff said.

Houston, We Have a Problem

After enduing a day that felt like a top-speed run in a hamster wheel, I arrived home with fond thoughts of a glass of wine, and maybe a round of mind-numbing video games with the boys. What I got was my oldest heathen in dire need of help with his science homework. One big, fat sigh later, I sat down to help him with the naïve confidence that we could finish up that homework in five minutes or less. The question he couldn’t figure out was how to calculate his current age on each planet in our solar system, given how many days that it takes each planet to rotate around the sun.

Thirty seconds later, my head exploded, and I fled into the kitchen with a sincere, “wait until your dad gets home…he’ll help you.” I had more important things to do…like find the corkscrew.

Yes, I was bested by my third-grader’s homework. I’ll admit it. I pawned that job off on my poor husband before his behind could even clear the door.

Late last night, I got a text from another mom in my son’s class. Because our jobs intersect quite often, we have occasion to text about work now and then.

The test simply read: “I hate third grade.”

I texted back: “Science?”

To which she replies: “Yep.”

It’s nice to know I’m not alone. Shame stings a whole lot less when it’s shared.

Tools as a Metaphor for Gender Dynamics

I’ve noticed a little something about men and tools.

My husband owns many tools, and despite an occasional effort at organization, his tools remain scattered around the garage in piles of mayhem. I think that by the time he finishes working on a project, he has expended most of his initiative, and therefore puts his tools away in a hurried, haphazard fashion. Deep down, I am sure he really believes that he will put away the tool in question correctly at a later date, but that time never comes.

I, on the other hand, have a tiny toolkit that my bank gave me many years ago, as a free gift for opening a new account. The kit is small and cheap, but everything clicks into place inside the toolbox, and it folds up neatly for storage. Until we moved, I kept the toolbox in my closet, but finally relocated it to the garage in the new house; closet space was at a premium, and I figured the ten-step walk to the garage wouldn’t kill me.

Sunday, we headed to J’s new house to paint her bedroom, and my husband decided to grab a few basic tools for any odd jobs he might encounter while there. However, instead of grabbing his giant, manly toolbox, or fishing out a few tools from his piles in the garage, he beelines it for my tiny toolkit. Why?

Because he KNOWS it will all be there, with everything in its’ place. My OCD would accept no less.

$1000 bucks worth of tools, but the man has to snatch my free, cheapo toolkit.

Yep, not much else I can say about that.

Garden Observations In Lieu of Housework

Despite the fact that I know the misery of a Louisiana summer is just around the corner, I can’t help but revel in the perfect Spring weather. As you can see, the hydrangeas are blooming, which happens to be my favorite flower. I plan to grab some shears tomorrow and clip some flowers to put around the house. Even though my housework is sadly neglected in recent days, I grabbed the camera after work, and spent an hour snapping pictures and watching the guys play catch. After all, who needs clean underwear anyway?

Our vegetable garden appears to be thriving, probably because I keep my green-thumb-of-death far, far away. I call it an altruistic act of garden preservation…my husband calls it flat-out laziness. Who cares, as long as it lives?

We still have plenty of work and tinkering to do around the yard, but I managed to solicit (read: draft) some volunteers. I may or may not have said, “come on, put your back into it,” in the seconds before this photo was taken.

Just kidding! He WANTED to play with the shovel…really!

If you’ll excuse me, I have a bathroom to clean…

Send wine, STAT!