Bless my husband and everyone who looks like him. The man took pity on me (well AND his mom who was starting to get the shakes from Grandson Withdrawal, I think), packed up Short Stuff and headed off for an overnight visit. Jacob, naturally, was pleased as punch (apparently, punch is generally quite pleased, according to Those in the Know) since visits to Halmeoni and Harabeoji mean ALL BABY, ALL THE TIME, woooooooooooooooooooooooooot NO NAPS YAYYYYYYY party party party!!!!
So, I went to bed around nine, in a glorious nest of ALL the pillows and ALL the covers and ALL THE BED. Woke up, made coffee. Ate cold pizza for breakfast. Fired up the PS3. Am continuing to sprawl, in my lounge pants with my hair all freaky looking and IT IS GOOOOOOD. There comes a time when a Mommy requires some recharging of her batteries and I'm going to have the whole day all to myself to do so. (cracks knuckles) AND the Clever Husband had given me a gift card to Gamestop for my birthday, so I have two new games to play. Bwaaaaahahahahaha.
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IF I COULD GET LOOSE, I WOULD GIVE YOU SUCH A SMACK... or A Very Gerbil Moment
So I had to run up to the local grocery last night to return a DVD for the husband. I'm getting out of the car when suddenly this truck that was bigger than Tom Cruise's EGO came flying around a curve, and careened into the spot next to me. I had barely enough time to slam my car door shut and flatten myself against my car. The fecking driver smirked at me. I saw red. Not just red, but all the way past Rose Madder... beyond Cadmium Red and well into the throes of ALIZARIN CRIMSON. (woe be those that paint for we shall be stuck calculating how to get That Shade forevermore...)
The guy wasn't a teenager, either. Looked to be about mid-thirties. Ooh. we are having one of those "sorry about your penis" moments? And as he headed across the parking lot, I took a step after him to give him a piece of my scattered mind.
Yeah. Not so much.
My head jerked back and I just about fell down.
I'd cleverly slammed my hair shut in the door.
And while we're at it, some pics because I haven't posted any in months and months
I call this: Jacob Sings the Blues. I should point out that he isn't actually crying, he's yelling at me with his eyes squinting shut because I wouldn't hand him the Gibson guitar leaning against the wall behind me. AAAAAAngry boy! "EuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuHHHHHHH"