Monday, July 15, 2013

Who needs a rubix cube, actually who does need one? Ever?  But should you find yourself hankering for one, simply try to remove the liner of a modern car seat. Same thing, only harder. I would recommend that you not remove the liner ever, but that requires being on the same page with your daughter as to the proper use of a diaper.

I believe that diapers are for holding poo. Cinco does not. Because then the icky poo would touch her delicate hindquarters and that’s just unacceptable. There is no need for poo to reside in any of the crevasses developing on her thighs when there are plenty of crevasses to deposit any bodily fluid—poo, spit up—in her very nice car seat. We have tried to come to an understanding on this issue, and all I understand at the moment is that I will have to get up fifteen minutes earlier tomorrow in order to ensure that her car seat is street legal before we leave for the ridiculous speed camp on the other side of the galaxy.

On the dingo wrestling front, X-Man had to have an x-ray of his adenoids today. The medication he was put on is most definitely not doing its job. Unless its job is to produce enough snot to lubricate an engine, in which case, I’m going to cancel the oil change I have scheduled. The first indication that it was not going as planned was the Niagara flow pouring from his nostrils. The second was that after three days, X-Man sat calmly as I shot ineffective medication up his nose. Clearly, he didn’t feel a thing.

And I have become THAT mother. The mother who prattles on about her children’s bodily fluids. But I have reached the point where I choose my outfits based on how best to accessorize the eventual baby vomit and poo that I will be christened with.

I’m going to call it a night. The father figure sauntered into the bedroom at 3:30am this morning and asked “Hey, you wanna take me to work?” I suppose there was a choice involved; Of course my choice would be to ditch the ridiculous temperamental car of his, that doesn’t even hold a reasonable percentage of our children. But somehow that wasn’t in the cards.

And as this post has been nothing but a litany of first world problems, I should quit while I’m ahead. 

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