So you think you're an adult now

What the hell happened? My dog has turned into a total retard. And it only took about a week under the care of a lazy teenager.

When we went on vacation we were packed like sardines into my friend’s SUV. Basically we gave up a whole row of seating, so when I was loading our baggage it got kind of interesting. Like Regina’s son in Minnesota pointed out, it was just like a real life game of Tetris. God, I miss that game. No wonder I had so much fun loading up the luggage. Anyway, back before we left Montana it took me a couple of hours to pack it all in there just right, but in all fairness one of my neighbors stopped to converse during the game. This was the first time we actually said more than just “Hello” to each other, so I think we ended up talking a good hour until it started getting creepy and I learned he was a Kentucky-bred racist and not the innocent peace-loving Veteran I had once thought. The kids came along then and started pestering me. I’ve never been so happy to see them. They probably thought it was really weird to get smiles from me when they so rudely interrupted. What I’m doing here is dragging out the fact that since we barely had room for ourselves, we definitely didn’t have any room for a canine on board. This didn’t become an issue with adopting my sister’s dog though, because she and her husband did a 180 and decided to keep their beloved pet… some time between April and Jessica‘s birthday party.

Back to my pet - I had to hire the most responsible person I knew who was willing to dog sit (and house sit) for cheap. Enter a kid who is always desperate to get away from his place. He has been a friend of the family since he was 10. Now he’s 18 and thinks he’s an adult. I felt he was the best choice under the circumstances. I honestly don’t know anyone else I could trust 100% not to throw parties or drink my beer while we were away. But I knew there was a downside to hiring him. He thinks he can get by in life doing as little as possible. He is nearly always sitting around with his laptop, and gets less sun than a mushroom. He has no desire to go to college. In fact, I think his only plan is to do nothing and mooch off his parents the rest of his life. So… he has until the fall to get a job and pay his parents rent or he’ll be kicked out of the house. When he does ever decide to get a job he wants to live with us and pay me rent in order to escape his family drama. Well, he says his mom wants to take so much of his money he’ll be trapped at home forever. But when we came back from our vacation I soon could see where his parents were coming from...

When we walked into the house the first thing we noticed was an awful smell. Very pungent. I wanted to puke. It turned out it wasn’t him, but dog urine. Apparently there was a day when he was gone too long and didn’t get back in time. So what did he do?! Well, he obviously didn’t clean it up.

Strike one.

In the kitchen I found dirty dishes piled up in and around the sink. Every cup and bowl, all of my pots, and a pile of silverware. You’d think he would have the decency to wash his own dirty dishes?! But again, he chose to leave the work for me.

Strike two.

My dog was so happy to see us. But after the first 24 hours I realized something about her wasn’t right. She looked… so… dumb. She looks incredibly stupid all of the time now. I don’t know what I can do, but just hope that it wears off. And not only does she look like a few pancakes short of a stack, but she is acting like it too. Nearly every time I call her to go outside she just sits there and stares at me, grinning and refusing to move. She’ll slowly come over when it’s potty time but I have to practically push her out the door. All she wants to do is lay around. She used to love being outside, and went out every chance she got. Now she is just like the dog sitter she had looking after her for a week.

Strike three.

Good luck, kid. You’re going to need it. If I were you I’d start by doing everything your parents say. Maybe then, they won’t charge you so much rent.

No more baggage

I’m revealing my hatred for all baggage.

Baggage = Ass






I used to think one of society’s worst problems was crystal meth. But now I know the truth… it’s crack.

How come most jeans are still baggy in one way or another? I was ready for the fad to end right about the time it started. Sometimes I have to break down and wear a belt (grr) to keep the suckers up on my waist where they belong. If I downsize the jeans so they fit my waist or legs, surprise! Camel toe is not cool, and I wouldn’t be caught dead in it… unless the funeral director is a total moron.

Let me explain why I’m such a horrible shopper. The story behind the baggy story.

• I like to go in, grab something in my size, and get right out of that trap baby. It’s really simple, shopping = broke. The longer I’m in there the less money I have to piss away on gasoline, and steak. I can always bank on spending at least $100 an hour if I‘m not playing offense.

• They fail to put warning labels on women’s jeans. If they’re relaxed fit, they should be clearly marked “belt required”. If they’re going to ride low they should say “crack alert”. If they have extra long pant legs they should be pre-rolled and sewn up into place so I can bypass them altogether. I’m not gonna look like a milk maid.

• It always looks good hanging on the rack. It never fails; I just can’t trust my own eyes. I’m playing the odds every time, and they‘re usually against me because I‘m always in a hurry.

• I don’t like to try on clothes at the store, it eats up precious time. Yes, I value my time more than I should. I’m a single working mom, go fig. And I hate changing rooms. Not because there is always a woman sporting a mullet and a creepy smile guarding the entrance. Well...

• I usually have kids with me. All kids have a breaking point after spending time in any store. This differs depending on the store, the child, and how much authority you actually have over the child. I prefer to avoid reaching that point when they start getting bored, restless, hungry, tired, whiny, and covetous. Because I have a fear that if I’m in the store too long with the kids I might hear something like, “Mom, little sister is crazy-out-of-control on a bike and people are running and calling security.”

Or, “Sorry Mom, I guess you’ll have to pay for these Doritos, Cheetos, BBQ Lay’s and Skittles now. We‘re still going to the steakhouse, right?”

Or, “Mom, we found little sis passed out in a chair covered in Cheeto dust. Oh, the chair is orange too, and that lady over there who says she’s the manager wants to talk to you.”

• When I buy crap, I keep it. If it doesn’t fit right, too bad. I can always find some one or some thrift shop who will take it. I’m not gonna go back to the store and do an exchange. Then I‘d have to go into the changing room, as hypocritical as it sounds. After going through the trouble of exchanging it, I’d have to make sure I‘m getting something that won‘t slide down and show my business. And I can’t help it if I have an irrational fear of “mullet woman”.

• I like online shopping. Basically, it’s to avoid everything mentioned above. And…I always get a warm and fuzzy feeling whenever I get a package, like some one just sent me a present. By the time my orders arrive I‘ve already forgotten about them, so it‘s like Christmas year round. Since I never get anything for Christmas it just makes it that much more special.

I don’t mind being the one to sass the ass crack. I’d love it if jean makers could go back to the way it was. By the way, are they still making plus sizes while they‘re producing all of these huge-waisted jeans? Why?

Baggage = Weight

The kiddies and I like to take trips. But when it’s time to load up the bags I always end up doing a double take. I wonder why our bags outnumber us by 4-1. So I end up wasting precious driving time going through each and every bag, making sure the kids aren’t trying to sneak their friends along. Who wants to be accused of being part of a child-smuggling ring?

And after all is said and done, I reach the conclusion that no one got overzealous with the packing, and we DO need all that baggage, and I just have like… too many kids. Then I make them load up the bags…

Baggage = History

Every man and woman who has ever been in a serious relationship that came to an end has some baggage. But you can lose it in order to move on. Just take it to your nearest airport.

How do you feel about baggage?