On the windows of my car. The other side was just as bad. My otherwise nondescript Toyota Corolla is easily spotted by many as mine.
Until today. I grabbed the Goo Gone and pie server and went to work.
I said goodbye to all the characters who have been travelling with us all this time;
Shrek. Spiderman. Ironman. Kung Fu Panda. Cars. Trucks. Miscellaneous Princesses.
Not an easy task. Those fuckers have been baked on for years.
The hardest one though? That I had to rub and rub and rub until my wrist was sore before I got it off?
Just ask Bea;
"Mommy. You're really rubbing that Woody hard aren't you?"
Looking at a photo album with Owen. A picture of me in the hospital after having Bea. Owen is asking me if I was sick, like he was when he was a baby.
"No. That was when Bea was born, remember?" Signing and speaking to him. He nods in understanding, runs and finds Bea, waving the photo album in her face;
"See this one? Mommy said is when you were boring."
Too bad Owen's real name isn't Graham (look at the striped pillow on the bed) and that he isn't a lunatic for all things Spiderman.
'Cause if he was? This would be so fucking cool.
It has been two weeks now.
Since Bea threw a fit of epic proportions about whoknowswhat that sent her up the stairs and to her room where she kicked and screamed and flailed for whoknowshowlong and finally calmed down enough to display the injury she incurred whilst throwing said spectacular fit.
She showed me this injury again today, mostly healed, but still referred to as a;
"Boo Boo of Stomping."
I was more than a quarter of my way through an actual crosswalk this week when fucking minivan driving douchebag drove right through it. She did slow down when she noticed me, but kept right on going. She looked right at me as I mouthed:
And as I looked right at her? I realized we went to high school together.
She was an ass hole then too.
I unfriended her on Facebook.
Jillsmo tagged me for a fucking meme just to piss me off.
I'm supposed to take a picture of the books on my bedside table and talk about them or some shit.
Well Jillypoo, I'm too lazy to take a picture of the disaster that is my bedside table, and this is a *cough* family blog anyway and I would never want to offend.
Here's my books:
I swore I was going to stop after the third book and read something different. But then I saw a commercial for a new movie starring this guy:
And having cast him in my
fantasies mind - with flaming red hair of course- as the gallant Jamie Fraser, I'm dug into Drums Of Autumn until the thrill wears off.
Yeah. That isn't gonna happen anytime soon.