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Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Sanity Slowly Slipping

And it's only the first week of summer vacation.

The boys are maddening.

Cole always wants something to drink. "Juice," he'll say. Or "Milk." So I've taken the necessary precautions and bring along some juice in the car everytime I go somewhere like the grocery store or the park. Of course, he either drinks it all immediately and then asks for more juice in ten minutes or you give him juice and he wants milk.

Add to this an unhealthy obsession with Thomas The Train and the mental state of my brain takes some heavy hits.

Then Spencer adds his two cents in. I promise to take him to the pool on a play date but forgot it was the day the flooring guys came to replace the kitchen floor. Boy has meltdown when he finds out we're stuck at the house for the majority of the day. Quite honestly, I felt for him. I wanted to go to the pool as well.

Of course, I didn't whine about for the next two days like he did.

Then he wanted to go to this park that has a lined baseball field. Baseball being his current sports obsession. But the field was off limits because it was freshly lined. And just like his little brother, he managed to drink all his juice before we even got to the field. It's 90 fucking degrees here in Carolina folks and humid as a motherfucker. I know in two short steps the two will be sweating and thirsty.

Today it worked out for the best because when they started to lay into me with their demands for their thirst to be cured, a stormed loomed on the horizon and we got home just in time to miss the downpour...

And just in time to hear the moans for food, the requests for Thomas videos, and the need to pester me, dad, incessantly about anything.

Xanax anyone?

4 comments:

O'Grady said...

Xerox, maybe.

Anonymous said...

BITE ME AGAIN

She's blowing Roto Rooter for the sink burn. Getting snaked and Ted's surfing
before work. Kathy's doing rails on the tracks of a zipper. Getting baked and
saying look out she might puke on Ted's flippers. Bite marks on the ass and
double nickels on the dime. Ted gets home and she's sleeping like a baby. CHEST
PAINS. RACY FEELING OF ANXIETY. CHEST PAINS. LACE AND LEATHER AT FREDERICK'S.
KNOWS HER WAY ROUND LOS FELIZ. CHEST PAINS. Kathy's idea of crackers in bed is a
one-night-stand with two guys who do stand-up. She stands up when she pees but
the web-cam is contaminated. She's jerking U.P.S. and Fed Ex and U.S.P.S. and MC
and Visa. There's no postscript to the mess. Ted gets home and she's still wired
from the meth. CHEST PAINS. RACY FEELING OF ANXIETY. CHEST PAINS. LACE AND
LEATHER AT FREDERICK'S. KNOWS HER WAY ROUND LOS FELIZ. CHEST PAINS.

She's blowing cash money for the mink shirt. Getting ripped and Ted's playing
video games before work. Kathy's doing rails on the veins of a stripper. Getting
naked and saying watch it she might sit and spin on her teddy. Bite marks in the
armpits and muzak inside Walgreen's. Ted gets home and she's rhyming like a
limmerick. CHEST PAINS. RACY FEELING OF ANXIETY. CHEST PAINS. LACE AND LEATHER
AT THE SECRET. KNOWS HER WAY ROUND LOS FELIZ. CHEST PAINS. Kathy's idea of cold
and night-time medicine is a one-night-stand with a guy who looked like
Letterman. She lies down when she pees and the bathroom's unattended. She's
jerking Triple A and Macy's and Pink Dot and the Crazy Chicken. There's no
foreword to the frontispiece. Ted gets home and she's got toothpicks in her
cunt. CHEST PAINS. RACY FEELING OF ANXIETY. CHEST PAINS. LACE AND LEATHER AT
FREDERICK'S. KNOWS HER WAY ROUND LOS FELIZ. CHEST PAINS.

Anonymous said...

you haven't post'd in some time. either too busy or not interested. i hope the former.

Moinous said...

point et virgule (;) !