Good times.

WARNING!!!!! Do not read this if you are squeamish or Zerback.


Did you know what a dead chipmunk can do after sitting in the stifling sun for an unknown period of time? I do. It turns out that when you pick up a dead chipmunk its tail will snap off and the decomposing carcass can actually manage to splat on your leg and STICK there until you start running around like you have stepped on a bee hive.

Ask me how I know this.

Uggghhh...I can still feel it. Out, damned spot! Out, I say!

No good deed goes unpunished

It's that time of year again. When frantic parents rummage through the vanity looking for hairspray, can't seem to find the right colour of thread for sewing and need to make a quick dash to the pharmacy to buy blue frost eyeshadow. The time of year I am referring to is the grand dance recital. This is when proud Grandparents, bored siblings and over caffinated soccer Moms get to watch their little darlings perform their mediocre dance skills.

The dance studio my girls go to is terrific. There is a great deal of parental involvement, tasteful costumes and a general cheery attitude. One thing this dance studio really counts on is parent volunteers. I couldn't help but notice a sharp decrease in the number of volunteers. Actually, it is hard not to notice when the director of the studio has sent emails begging us to volunteer. Anyhoo, me, being a super amazing person decided to step up to the plate. I figure I would lend a hand to the junior area. This way I can chill with the kids and obsess over my own offspring's makeup. Easy peasy! The 7-12 year old crown is super low maintenance. Bring some snacks, a DVD player and some Advil and I am laughing!

No such luck.

I have been slotted in the Kinderdance/Primary dressing room. Are you fucking kidding me?!?!?!? Do you know what 4-6 year old kids are like?!?! This is just about the worst place for me to be. I genuinely dislike young children, particularly 4-6 year old girls in large quantities. Turns out everyone else does too as it is only me and ONE OTHER PARENT who will be responsible for these easily misplaced little creatures.

Let us do the math. 20 ankle biters + 2 babysitters = FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK

What is a Mother to do...

....when her five year old draws at least 10 pictures a day of dead people listening to music.

This is precisely the reason I DO NOT let my kids watch violent movies.

The children are our future.

I hope my children grow up to be just.like.her.

sigh

If I get one more crappy email forward I might burst into a flaming ball of rage.

I don't mind the funny pet pictures, or the awesome test answers thing. In fact, I am a huge fan of those. What I can't take anymore of are the Amber Alerts, half naked men and the "You Know You are a Mom When." poorly written forwards designed to make someone laugh. I would like to think that anyone who knows me enough to email me know that I am NOT a fan, in fact there have been hours devoted to emails between my sister and I discussing how and why they are so terrible.

I am pretty much 100% sure that there not a single record of ANYONE being the unfortunate recipient of bad luck as a result of not forwarding "A Real Friend Will....".

A lovely am gift.

This morning I went out to look at my garden and I was greeted with not one, but two dead birds. My cat loves me so.

I am slowly becoming that crazy lawn person (look up my Dad in the dictionary for a full definition). I can't bear to do a rough calculation of how much dough I have spent on my "gardens" over the years. What is so tragic about this hobby of mine is that I am TERRIBLE at it. Imagine a fisherman who is so bad he uses a baseball bat for bait. I am THAT terrible. Not only am I terrible I am also waaaaaay too ambitious. BUT...I just finished planting my veggie garden! It looks spectacular!

The May 24 has come and gone.

There is no other holiday, with the exception of Christmas, that makes me more excited then the long weekend. This year I had the cutest couple in the world and one hell of a cook stay with me for the weekend and I had a small shindig on Friday. The rest of the weekend was devoted to R&R. Lots of awesome food, drinks, chats, gardening and watching Carl run through my neighbours tulips. Ugh, he is the reason people hate cats. Actually, *I* am the reason people hate cats.