And By The Way, Which One’s Pink?
I have decided what I will do when I finally lose the rest of the baby weight: I’m getting a shorter (not too short, I look like Pinhead even when thin) haircut. Because, you know, longer hair hides the 30 extra pounds.
But several days prior, I will be doing something I’ve always wanted to do: I’m going to give myself a mullet. And it will be freaking sexxy.
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Several nights ago, during a dinner that Dave didn’t happen to make it to, Ben proclaimed that he was going to draw a picture of his house with Alex and I in it. So I asked if Dave was going to be in the picture as well, to which he replied, after thinking about it for awhile,
“…Yes….BUT he will be crying.”
I nearly choked on my own saliva.
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Wendy’s new slogan “That’s Right” irritates me tremendously, because every time I’ve ever been to Wendy’s (which is very, very infrequently), my order has always been completely wrong. I’m considering complaining to coorporate about it because they are LYING. It’s NEVER Right.
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I left the baby in his Exersaucer near the television yesterday while I ran down to throw a load of laundry into the dryer. When I got back, I realized that he was studiously watching a television program. I heard the phrase “incestuous relationship with his sister” and realized that I had left him to watch a biography of Caligula, The Deviant Emperor.
Somewhere, some therapist is rejoycing at the shear amount of money he/she will be recieving in the future from my children.
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Over the weekend, my father, the pharmacist informed me that all of the infant cold remedies had been pulled from the shelves as some 65 deaths had occured over the last 10 years from parental misuse.
Unfortunately for my son’s poor chest, he’s right. I checked today.
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Operation Dave’s Little Minion is commencing full force this evening. Dave and Ben will be heading out to the unveiling of the new Star Wars exhibit.
Man, it’s too bad that the baby is sick and I can’t go…really, I’m crying.
Between this and the adoration of video games, it’s no wonder that I keep telling Dave that Ben will live in our basement for most of his adulthood.
I tried to read this whole post…but I couldn’t because the mental image of you with a mullet was too overpowering for me to be able to see the screen.
I.want.to.be.there. That will be AWESOME.
I cannot wait. It’s too bad that I can’t temporarily perm the shorter part of my hair. Then I would be truly amazing.
You don’t have to actually perm it, but you could set it on perm rods and dry it that way and then take LOTS of pictures.
Let me know if you want perm rods. Just don’t ask questions about why I own them in two sizes.
In one of the show I do, we put mullet wigs on a couple of audience members and drag them up on stage for a humiliating audience participation bit. I never cease to be amazed that people are willing to put on mullet wigs (PREVIOUSLY WORN BY UNKNOWN PEOPLE) and humiliate themselves. People are stupid. I hate them. Or perhaps that’s just my sinus infection talking.
By the way, Becky, thanks for sending me your sinus infection via your blog. That’s pretty cool.
So, what will you people do FOR ME if I take pictures of myself with my mullet and post them all over my blog? I will totally borrow the perm rods for this…
And sorry about the sinus infection, Gail. Misery loves company?
I had a mullet in 1987. It actually had a spike (a la Bart Simpson) for the short bit. Attractive.
That’s a GREAT idea! My hair refuses to hold curls, but I can SO spike it!