FYI, MiniZombie says we're out of tooth paste...

I've never been purposefully flashed.

Never, unless you count the 7 year old that can't seem to wear pjs AND take his vitamins at the same time...but we're working on that. (And by "working on that" I mean not at all, but trying to accept it as a constant...like soy milk on my floor & my chain smoking diet mtn dews.)

Not that I want to be flashed. It's usually the ones that need to keep their shit under wraps that are eager to run around in a shady trench coat, being sharers. TaaaaDaaaaa! PEEPS.

Probably the same people that go to nude beaches. No ma'am. Nothing you wanna see there. I don't need to see your burnt junk setting up for the spike. Unless I've been drinking & then it would probably be the best entertainment I'd had all day. "You! Not you...Cocktail Wiener over there...you can't bump worth shit." I would definitely not be cool. Tell your bitch to be cool...sorry. Can't. It's like IKEA - just can't get there from here.

I've had the "T-shirt only" discussion with K. GUYS T-shirt only. Just T-shirt and...dangle. I don't need that in my life & I can't handle it. "Are you punishing me for that zombie thing forever ago??!" I apologized for that. Mostly.  Granted, I didn't mean it, but I gave an 85% kind of attempt at a straight face & practiced my sad, empathic eyes in the mirror. "I am super sorry that you have a for real, full-on irrational fear of a zombie attack.  While I DID prey on your deepest fears & will laugh about it again in the future, please do not push me down in the unlikely event we are fleeing from a zombie horde.".  With any luck, they'd eat the kids first anyway...

There was effort of some sort. And it's not like I let the zombie use his toothbrush.






Ok. I DID let the zombie use his toothbrush.

And I took a picture & sent it to him.

After I posted it on Facebook.



Keeping the romance alive...

Longer, leaner, faster, stronger!
Ashley

Boogey Fever

For as far back as I can remember, my aunt told me stories about the Hairy Arm That Lives Under The Bed, along with other some bullshit that she made up to completely screw with my toddler peanut brain...scared me shitless to even think about going outside after dark or to look in my closet...but funny now & completely worth scaring the bejesus out of my own kids with ;-)

Sometimes, though, she took shit a step further...

When I was 4, Auntie Dearest hid under my bed wearing a gorilla suit. She waited until I was returning from the bathroom & crawling back into the bed to reach out & grab my sweet baby ankle with her giant monkey hand.

Holy fuck.

It was a good thing that I'd already peed because I'd have WRECKED that damned costume.

Now, I'm 35 years old & I can't let a body part hang over the side of the bed. Leave a foot uncovered? No ma'am. HELLLL NO.

I have conversations with myself about it - "Ashley, you are a grown ass woman. Put your foot out. Do it now! You know good and damned well there ain't room for shit else under your bed with all the crap you've stuffed under there - much less a fucking gorilla boogeyman." Pep talk it up real good. And then I'm all "Yeah! Fuck you, Gorilla Boogeyman! I'll put my foot anywhere I good & damned well want to. Up yo' ass, if I feel like it, sonovabitch!"

Aaaaand then I snatch it back in & under the covers because I don't want to get my foot clawed.

Shamed.

A friend posted a pic of a freaky scary-ass clown murderer hiding under a bed on my Facebook page this week, not knowing that she'd pretty much nailed it ;-) Reminds me of a friend that I used to have that sent a now ex-friend of his a pissy birthday card after not being invited to his birthday party. "Happy birthday to you! (You were an accident) Happy birthday to you! (Your parents didn't want you) Hope you have an awesome day anyway!"...not realizing that the soon-to-be-ex friend was actually adopted...oops. My bad, dog.

Awkward.

**Note to self: Clean adult human-sized space out from underneath the boy's bed**

Longer, leaner, faster, stronger!
Ashley

Don't play dead...or was that DO play dead...?

Back at Cub Scouts. Den Mom forgot the key to our meeting space & so we're hanging out...outside...in the dark. Den Dad got the super brilliant idea to play catch with a damned baseball & it's only a matter of time before one of the cars they're standing next to loses some glass. "You! Get away from my car! You heard me!"

Not an athletic group.

Still outside & somebody just got hit. Game over.

AA won't let us in the building. I stand by my "AA-holes" assertion. I SEE YOU IN THERE!!!

Moving on to forward rolls. Wtf? How do 7 year olds not know how to do this? Mass complaining about sticks on the ground. My God. THIS is what happens when you don't let boys be boys - they turn into goddamned whiney girls. Where's the adventure? I haven't had to say "Put that stick down before you poke your eye out!" not the first damned time tonight. What are they doing with their time?

STILL outside...

Scraaaaaaaatch. I hate Cub Scouts.

I DO have cute hair, though, & a skort, so shit could be worse.

Aaaaand Den Mom's finally back with the key.

That's worse. I was hoping we'd get to leave early. :-/

Inside & it's just like the half hour we just spent outside jackassing around doesn't count towards time served. NOW we start the meeting.

Hate everyone here.

During the first aid talk, my suggestion to "just sever" wasn't well received. Then we somehow migrated over to bear attacks (""\(o_o)/"") Probably because I brought that shit up...then I told the new parents that we saw bears at the camp out last year...up close & personal. "They were all just hanging out all up in the tent area...just. right. there." ;-)

That MAY have been a MINOR exaggeration about what went down...

"You got a bear whistle, right?"

Diversionary snacks because of increasing bear panic. One kid gets bent because his Capri Sun got leaked on by another pouch. I want to squirt him with mine & tell him to shut the hell up.

Wuss.

Flags. Popcorn. Fire truck. Mmmhmm. Ok. Alright. Sure - whatever. Done? Yay!

What the hell did I just agree to buy?

Longer, leaner, faster, stronger!
Ashley

Clawstian Grey's litter box needs cleaning...

Saw a list on Facebook from Pinterest that a woman posted. "101 Things To Do With Your Husband"

**I have a Pinterest acct, but after having to wait forfuckingever for an invitation to join, I refuse to use it out of principle. Bull. Shit.**

I will, however, use the hell outta some Facebook. Anyway...the list.

"Apple picking"
Who the hell decided this was fun? There's a reason other people get paid to do this. It seems like it'd be all fun, but then there are bugs & the carrying & then somebody gets called a ShitBag & leaves the orchard in a huff. Luvvvvvv youuuuuuuu.....

"Holding hands in the mall"
 My own personal vision of Hell so let's not if it's all the same to you. You know what IS fun in the mall? Buying me stuff. And the place with steak & french fries.

"Playing Monopoly"
 Awesome. The game that ends with me in devastating little metal dog poverty & you sleeping on the couch, if I don't just wander off to the bathroom...hanging out with the hope you'll forget what we were doing & start watching TV instead.

"Read a book together"
No ma'am. The phrase "Just turn the goddamned page already..." is bound to bubble up. I don't want to read about war & I don't even know what I DO read these days. Cereal box. Shampoo bottle. Am I getting all the conditioning I need? Who the hell knows...

"Match socks together"
Negative. K is very...set...in his laundry ways. I like to leave a sock hanging out of the dresser just to mess with him. "Look at it...just hanging out there...drawer ajar... ;-) " He rotates his stock/I shove clothes in my drawers with a foot. That's pretty much how we operate. He overlooks a lot of shit ;-)

"Other shit that I don't want to do"
Etc.

Noticed the entire list was pretty much just stereotypical crappy girl stuff.   No wonder they don't want to do it. Hell, I don't want to & I'm all ovaried up.  Nowhere on that list was "make sandwiches". K's pretty damned fond of that. Or "eat cake". That's big at my house, too, & closely followed by "drink cold cold beer". And where was "Do it"? That's their favorite...& how I ended up with the small one and an iPad.

Just sayin'...you might get cool stuff ;-)...instead of ending up being married to some dude that likes to hold hands, read chick lit & wants to get a cat.

Cool stuff?  Infinitely better.

Longer, leaner, faster, stronger!
Ashley