Friday, June 02, 2006
Good f'ing riddance, my arch nemesis!
I had to say good bye to my arch nemesis today at the Door Man's preschool graduation party. It was with a heavy heart that I didn't wave good-bye to her, didn't say one word of good luck to her, and just basically didn't make any sort of eye contact with her. However, I DID learn her first name, and it is as snooty and snotty as she is: Tamara.
Not Tammy. Hell, if I had known her name was Tamara, I would have been sure to get my digs in by calling her Tammy or Tam. And how do you spell Tammy? Oh, you don't GO by Tammy. Well, you do in my book.
And seriously, WTH is up with your husband? He totally looks like The Friendly Martian. Tammy, you settled.
They all sat in the back row, talking about whatever, and THEN the husbands joined up with them, and they talked about their golf games.
Thank GOD that I married a man who can't STAND to play golf. It seriously is the hugest waste of time and money. There is no point to it whatsoever.
So Tammy ... good luck to ya and your kept existence. Good luck to ya with all those PTO meetings and Service League meetings.
Will I see you at the upcoming Habitat for Humanity day? Oh .... probably not, huh? That would require actually exerting yourself in activity that doesn't make you look good.
I'm a mom of three peeps ... Queen Bee, The Door Man, and the Chandelier Monkey, and wife to Ace, the Helpful Hardware Man. I created this space to get away from the people known as my inlaws, and because life with three kids and a hubby is all Unexplored Territory.
The nine-year-old who seems to be growing older every minute, has an opinion and a comment for everything, and has a true servant's heart.
The seven-year-old who loves the organization of things, will someday be someone's therapist because of his kind soul, and will more than likely be living with us until he is 40 years old.
The five-year-old with the 13-year-old attitude, who has a dictator's personality, asks you to watch her all the time and say "hold on" to keep your attention, and will someday come home on the back of some dude's motorcycle with 10 tatts and a body piercing or two.
The man of the house, the fixer of things, the winner of prizes, and the only person in his family to escape the South.
I think I want May back
I think he is a glutton for punishment
Hell hath no fury like an insured scorned
BINGO, my ass
Apparently in some circles, my name is mud...
As we get ready for our upcoming garage sale....
Separated at birth
Do you know what drives me batty?