Dakota has been visiting lately and only just left which is why I've been neglecting my bloggish duties.
Every five minutes while he was here he was doing one of the following:
1. Eating something. In which case I have to tell him to get the hell out of the kitchen, monitor his portions so he doesn't eat half a gallon of ice cream in one sitting, or instruct him on the correct way to prepare his 'snack' so he doesn't burn down the kitchen.
2. Building a fort. When he does this he moves every piece of furniture in the room and uses every blanket and pillow in the house, which he drags all over the floor before putting them back on our beds. Once he stuck push pins in Phoenix's mattress and left them there for us to find. Little surprises.
3. Yelling at or beating on Phoenix and Kale in 'self defense.' Sure Kale bites but a 12 year old should be able to retreat safely from a 6 and 4 year old without hurting them. Ya think?
Anyway, it's been crazy. Like super crazy. I've been self medicating with large quantities of chocolate and books to keep myself from murdering him in his sleep.
Did I say that out loud? I meant I love him to death. Literally.
Right now I'm covered in mosquito bites and I am sooooooooo not exaggerating.
I have thirteen on my left side, apparently that's the juiciest meat, and I have four on the right. And those are just the parts of my body that I can see. I'm going to start burning citronella candles in my bedroom because I haven't been outside much at all. It's been raining and hailing of and on for seven days and I'm not much of an outdoor person anyway.
I swear! There's some kind if newsletter circulating in the insect kingdom that has me on the top ten list of tasty human meals.
The other day I went to get groceries with Kale. He went to the bathroom before we left but, of course, had to go poop in the middle of the shopping. And wouldn't my luck have it, they were cleaning the ladies room and had it blocked off. I had to take him into the men's room and keep my eyes on the ceiling so I wouldn't see anyone at the urinals. I'm surprised I wasn't arrested or something. There were a couple kids in there who thought they were in the wrong bathroom and one very unhappy man who looked like a black Arnold Swartzeneger. (I have no idea if I spelled that right, and I sort of don't care.)
Today I made baby back ribs for Amoo. I cooked those puppies for three hours at 300 F. then finished them on the grill to add that carbon monoxide flavor, good eatin'.
When it was time to get them off it started hailing. After spending almost four hours on the dish I wasn't about to abandon them simply to avoid getting wet. So, in one of my brightest moments, I braved the severe weather to save the ribs.
I have to say... WOW! I never knew how much it hurt to get hailed on. It felt like little bee stings, one right after another. I even caught one in the eye, little stinger. It was fun, no really. I can't wait to try it again.
I never understood how much my mother suffered when we were teenagers, now I know.
Xandra's not even a teenager yet and I'm ready to kill her. She walks around the house holding her boobs, complaining that her 'little peaches' hurt because they're growing. She 'fell' down yesterday and I had to go searching the stores for an ace bandage because of her 'injured ankle.' The same ankle she was jumping and dancing on five minutes before I left to get the bandage. She thinks anything bought from any store not in the mall is sub-par and just 'wouldn't be caught dead' in it. I used to beat up people who acted like that in high school.
So Mom, I am so, so, so sorry for you having to endure not one, not two, but three teenage girls all at the same time. There are no words to express my sympathy for such a plight. It should be outlawed for a woman to have to go through such hell. I know now that I wasn't given girls because whoever is in charge of the universe knew I would end up killing them the first time they told me I was 'so stupid for wearing that!'
Woman, I am sorry.
It does help if I remember one thing. When all this started Amoo told me that teenage girls NEVER make sense. They are not rational. They will never be. If they are making sense, they are probably sick or have PMS.
I hate you Sarah. Today Xandra told me she thinks her butt is too big. And could I take a look at it and give her my opinion?
Curse you and your female spawning loins.
Kale just ran up to me buck naked with his 'tenders' swinging in the breeze. When I asked him why he was naked he said, "I HAVE TO GO POOP!"
That explains everything, now doesn't it?