October 1, 2008 by Marj Hatzell
Bugaboo ate spaghetti. With meat sauce. As in MEAT and SAUCE and PASTA. A whole bowl. HUZZAH!
I can see New Jersey from here.
I remember which magazines and newspapers I’ve read. Specifically.
I do not want the Wall Street Bail Out to happen. Unless Wall Street pays for it.
I need a job.
I don’t want a job.
I like to eat potatoes.
I think you already knew that.
Bugaboo has a rotten cold.
I sent him to school anyways because I’m pretty sure that’s where he got it.
The good news is that he’s been sleeping.
I am getting THE cold.
We gave it to the babysitter, too.
Bug Boy is getting his mole removed. I’m sorry, it’s a NEVUS. I’ve been corrected.
I have cooked dinner and made meal plans. Tonight we’re having grilled chicken stir fry.
The kids won’t eat it.
I should be doing housework.
I’m practicing the art of procrastination instead.
The housework will still be there in an hour, the fairies and elves are on strike.
My back is still out.
I speed-walked instead of jogging this morning.
I don’t think it’s cheating.
It can’t be cheating, I don’t win anything and there aren’t rules. Except me getting into better shape.
I want creamy, fattening stuff for lunch.
That means I haven’t been eating enough lately.
The husband has been eating enough lately. Too much. Thirty pounds too much.
He’s over his September-mood-slump-omigosh-I’m-worried-about-money-freaking-Christmas.
It’s October today. Go figure.
We’re going away in three weeks for the WHOLE WEEKEND to celebrate our anniversary.
We look forward to these three measly days all year.
Even though we’re gone for three days without the kids, we still get up at 7. Weird.
Shad Roe hasn’t been eating.
She’s not feeling well again.
I like our basement. I like pretending it isn’t there. It’s great having a room to keep the kids crap in that you can shut the door and not clean it if you don’t wanna.
One month until voting time. Study the issues. Read up on it. Don’t believe everything you hear. Stop watching those *$%@#$ commercials.
When it comes to issues involving children, I’m a momma bear. Don’t mess with kids. Don’t mess with MY kids. PBLTT!
Life doesn’t get any better than this, folks. Enjoy it now, while you can.