I like to equate my kids to bridge trolls. They will not let you pass our house without having an intimate and entirely inappropriate conversation with them.
Today a new neighbor walked by. I recognized the dog first as it plays out in their backyard, which I have a clear view of. I also know that new neighbor's wife is like 10 months pregnant. I've seen her out back sunning her swollen belly on the few nice March days we've had here in the ATL.
It began innocently with a few hellos and questions about the neighbor's dog.
WE HAVE A DOG! HER NAME IS POODLE YOY! SHE IS GREY BECAUSE SHE IS OLD! HER BREATH STINKS!
You know, the usual deets.
Then it got personal.
DO YOU HAVE ANY KIDS?
New neighbor stifled a laugh.
NOT YET. (A very cryptic response in my opinion)
Big E was not phased.
It was almost in a threatening tone.
Like your life will be over very soon and you'll wonder why you ever chose to procreate.
This time new neighbor laughed out loud and walked on.
Next time he'll take the long way around the block and avoid us. Lesson learned.
Run. Just run away. Whatever these kids are selling you don't want any. Trust me.
Popular posts from this blog
I have seen Mr. Yoy a total of 8 awake hours over the past week, with the majority of it coming last night when we hired a sitter and went over to the Dwood Yoysers to visit with my brand new nephew. Mr. Yoy is killing it at work. He is working crazy long hours and with NBA players now trademarking their eyebrows, I may never see Mr. Yoy again. Anyway, I'll admit it. I'm bored. And, a little lonely. I try to put the kiddos to bed at a reasonable hour, and then I have a few hours to tool around the house. I can only eat so much ice cream and watch so much Say Yes to the Dress before my brain begins melting and slowly slides out of my ears. Tonight, I spent 30 plus minutes on the phone with a stranger that was contemplating buying my bar stools I had for sale on Craigslist. We were chatting it up about how hard it was to find the right bar stools. The ones I am selling are pretty nice, solid stools. My one complaint is that they have wicker seats and if you look c
Day 65. I first want to say Happy Birthday to my best friend who would have been 44 today. I found a funny email exchange we had with each other back when we both first had our babies and had zero clue as to what we were doing. DOES THIS THING COME WITH AN OWNER'S MANUAL? The buildup has been immense, but this was the actual last day of school here in Cobb. Big E had his final Zoom call with his class. His teacher put together a video of them with baby pictures mixed in with their current pictures and I stood over Big E's shoulder and watched and silently cried. I left to grab a tissue and returned to watch the whole 5th grade video with photos of them starting as babies in Kindergarten and now as 5th graders. Again, I stood over Big E's shoulder and silently cried. He turned to look at me. I tried to play it cool. YOU CAN LEAVE NOW. Normally that would have hurt my feelings, but I'm so raw from everything, that I just numbly walked away to clean up
I have survived a sh*tty four days of no diapers. If I was grading Little E, and let's face it, I always am, I'd give him a "C". Today he had one accident. But it was a mega poop in his underwear. At our neighbors' house. And waited until I discovered it. So he gets many demerits for being shifty. I have found over the past four days, the only time I am truly relaxed is when I slide those Cars Pull-ups over his chunky thighs minutes before bedtime. I can breathe again. Angels cry out HALLELUJAH from the heavens. My heart rate decelerates to an acceptable level for a woman my age. My deodorant stops working overtime. I know it gets better, as Big E is rounding the corner to five and he goes to the bathroom without prompting and/or drama. Unless something so engaging is on the television. And then he just goes in his pants rather than miss a minute of Jake and the Neverland Pirates. Priorities. I just want to fast forward this process