Monday, February 19, 2007

Encyclopedia Mom Has No Clue

President's Day is highly overrated as holidays go. Especially when
we have to go to school.

HH had the day off. That discombobulates me in the morning. He
didn't set his alarm, so I didn't have my extra 20 minutes of naptime
while he took a shower. I couldn't just get up later, because that
would throw off my goiter medicine schedule. Yeah. Goiter. My
life mimicks a Seinfeld episode each day, I tell you. Goiter. You
know...that football-sized growth on the side of my neck. Though
I didn't romance Mohandas. Anyhoo...after HH telling me that
he would set his alarm for 20 minutes, and then hearing him snore,
and then having him tell me the 20 minutes was up, after only 8
minutes...I arose to start the day.

HH is so needy. He wanted to be pampered. Not in a crazed-
rope-and-some-trash-bags kind of way, but in the stand-beside-
the-bed-and-hold-my-hand-and-adore-my-HHness kind of way.
That wasn't happenin'. I'm on a tight schedule every morning. The
extra 12 minutes had been taken up by finding a new lunch bag
for #2 son because his had mysteriously disappeared, and routing
#1 son out of bed because he lollygagged for 20 minutes after
being awoken, and getting a new shirt for #2 because he thought
he would be cold in a short-sleeve, even though he had a T-shirt
on under it and the forecast was for 56 degrees after weeks of
highs in the 20s.

When asked about his plans for the day, HH stated that he was
going to pick up my grandma's mail. Quite a feat when the Post
Office is closed, I pointed out. "Doh!" said HH, as he lay in bed
sporting his tighty whiteys, the only thing missing a Duff beer on
his belly. When I called home at 3:15, to ask what he was doing,
HH replied, "Laying here in the bed about to die. I have had a
fever off-and-on all day." Too bad, so sad. I informed him that
he wasn't the first man ever to catch a cold, and went on my
merry way, as I will do now, to something more interesting and

I must make a note to append my Encyclopedia of Common
Knowledge, because just this morning I learned that...

Scars Are Not Permanent. Neosporin removes them. That's
stupid to think that scars are permanent. Dude. It doesn't matter
that ranchers brand cattle. People aren't freakin' cattle. All you
have to do if you brand yourself with a hot metal thing like they
use on cows is put Neosporin on it and it will disappear. Duh.
And anyway, you can go to the hospital and they will burn off
the scar with lasers.

Dogs Can Eat Anything. Because they're dogs. But maybe not,
because after eating a whole oven mitt, that darn dog threw it up
all over the comforter and the bedspread. That was a surprise,
because there was nothing in it to hurt him. It was just an oven

Jeans Are Girls' If They Have Buttons On The Back Pockets.
And that's kind of G*Y, you know, for a guy to wear them.
So what if they have 28 32 in the waistband? Girls can buy a
size like that. Or not. They may be guys', because my brother
has two pairs like that. Wait a minute! My brother has two
pairs, so maybe they are girls' jeans, because he's just a big
ol' girl and I tell him all the time.

A 30 Percent Discount Is Not A Good Deal Because It Makes
The Jacket Cost 3 Times More Than It Did Before The Discount.
So why would anyone want to buy it? It costs more. And then
when you figure that the tax is 7 percent, and you add that $7
to it, the jacket costs even more. So you should have bought it
before it went on sale.

OK, envy the life of Hillbilly Mom. Sometimes I wonder what
kind of mark I am making in this world. I try and I try, but I do
not seem to be effective some days. It's like taking an hour to
explain the space-time continuum to a group of what you have
been told are gifted students, and one of them raises her hand
and asks, "Where'd you get them big ol' teeth?" Not that some-
thing of that sort has ever happened to me, but you get my drift.

I must be a visionary, ahead of my time. Ya think?

No comments: