Family Jackpot

Eew, the grossest thing ever happened to me last week.  I ordered five hundred U.S. dollars worth of clothes from Lands’ End because I go back to work full time at the dental office come August and Mike thinks periwinkle cardigans and monogrammed coral polos will inspire the masses to get their teeth cleaned.  Following this violent assault on my eyes I drove myself to Lululemon and inhaled the delectable scent of overpriced yoga pants and chic tops made by crazy talented kids in Guatemala.

Truthfully, I am super excited to return to the ole’ rat race after being home for the past eight years raising children; I could so use some well deserved downtime.  I am going to have an entire hour to eat lunch, pee all alone and indulge in two federally mandated fifteen minute smoke breaks.  O.M.G.  I have never even tried a cigarette.  #Excited.

Incidentally, my grandma loves to smoke, drink vodka and gamble.  Her 80th birthday is this week so I bought her a carton of cigarettes, an assortment of different flavored vodka shooters and eighty bucks worth of quarters.  I am going to take her gambling in this shithole mountain town that she absolutely loves.  I know what you are thinking, “Oh Erin, hath your generosity no bounds?”  No.  Not really.  I buy animals from expensive pet stores since even Amish puppy mills are not impervious to the effects of a flailing economy.  Anyway, my mom decided to throw grandma a birthday party.

Me:        Running around looking for my ringing phone.  See missed call from “Mom”.

Me:        Calling her right back, “Hi Mom, what’s up?”

Mom:    Sounding totally dejected, “Oh hi Erin, I hoped you were going to be the lady from the Mexican restaurant.”

Me:        “Weird, I was just wishing you were a small man from an Indian restaurant.  At any rate, I was just returning your call.”   

Mom:    “I really need to talk to her so I can tell her how many people are coming to the party.  I have to go to Costco, I will call you later when I have time to talk.”

Me:        I stared at my phone, laughing, hoping desperately that scientists are right in their hypotheses regarding genetic influence on subsequent generations so that I can have just as much psychological fun with my daughters in a few years. 

Well, I had a surfeit of amazingly funny things to tell you about in addition to my randomly stumbling upon the secret of immortality which I was also going to share however, one of my readers informed me my last blog rambled on.  As you might imagine this critique left me shocked and betrayed, much as I expect to feel when I discover my first grey pube.  Just kidding, it totally made me laugh.  A grey pube would never, ever amuse me.  Ever.  

So in lieu of the haiku I was going to write for you all, I will instead show you my favorite drawings and notes commissioned by daughters and niece over the past two weeks….Love Love Love to you all, thank you for making life so much more pleasant on occasion.  XO

Apparently my niece accidentally kicked my kid in the crotch.  My sister made her write an apology note.  Our kids are so emotionally in tune with one another it is almost like I had triplets and gave her one to raise as an experiment.    

My daugher decided she wanted to start earning an allowance.  She made herself a chore chart.  Of course I will pay her to go to school and wear lipstick.  Duh. 

This paper was sent home from school marked "redo".  Wtf.  I am not claiming my child is Picasso but, I thought it was brilliant how she managed to create the ultimate juxtaposition by incorporating fun into math.

My youngest daughter loves Katy Perry and decided to send her a piece of fan mail.  She was trying to write "I kiss you" which yes, is admittedly somewhat disconcerting.  Unfortunately, her cursive s's look like l's.  For the record, she totally does not want to kill Katy Perry.