Oh geez, REALLY?

Kids are, as you know, a mixed blessing.

Today was more mixed than most.

This morning Chicken came over to walk my parents’ dog, Max. Max is the mellowest, most awesome, most amazing old dog in the world, and Chicken went to the squishy part of the park so she could throw him a ball and lope after squirrels. While she did this I walked the little asshole Chihuahuas around their usual loop (partial today, because the park was flooded) so they could poop.

Chicken ran up to me, Max in tow, and we continued our walk, talking idly.  In the middle of our walk, she interrupted herself.

“Mom, I have a confession to make.”

“What?”  (Thinking: Oh God, how bad can this be?)

“While I was throwing the ball to Max, he took a giant dump. I didn’t have a poop bag. I couldn’t find it now with a divining rod.”

“Oh… uh…”

“I mean, it’s gonna be pouring down rain for two days, but not even that’s gonna wash it away.”

“Oh. Uh…”

“I’m sorry.”

“Uh, next time ask me for a poop bag.”


So, afterwards, we went to get our toes done–and I got my furry troll face waxed. Or, well, eyebrows and mustache.

We had a time limit, so as I was getting my feet done–just at the part where they were using the loofah that tickled–the aesthetician came up to wax my troll face.

And Chicken watched avidly, because I was simultaneously bracing for getting hair ripped off my body, wincing because it hurt, and laughing because someone was scrubbing my wiggling feet.

While I was trying to deal with all of that, I heard  Chicken laugh.

“Am I tickling you?” (The people at our pedicure place are so sweet!)

“No!” she giggled. “I’m watching my mom. She’s hysterical!”

I told this to Squish. She also thought it was hysterical.

And finally, ZoomBoy, who needs a filter.

“Mom, you know how Geoffie licks our ankles when we come out of the shower?”


“The other day, she jumped up and got my knee and my thigh. It was personal.”

“OH DEAR GOD.”  (From me.)

“Oh my God, ZoomBoy!!!” (From Squish.)

“ZoomBoy we didn’t even want to know that. Ever.”

“I’m sorry.”

No he’s not. He wanted to shock me. He wanted to embarrass us. He wanted a reaction. So I gave him one.

“Well at least I can say I knew your first girlfriend. And she was a real bitch.”

“OH MY GOD MOM!!!!!!!”

“Next time keep that story to yourself.”


Kids. Oh geez. REALLY?

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