I've reached the decision of which son I shall make miserable by living with them during my elderly dementia filled days. The choice is: DS3. Yes, Mr. Urgent Care. I tell you, I've taken that kid to the doc more the last two weeks than in DS1 has been in the last two years. I figure, he can return the favor.
After school yesterday he was apparently waiting for his bus to arrive when another brat tried to hit him with a stick. He raised his hand to block. The stick went UNDER his thumb nail. So we were once again a guest at Urgent Care. I'm telling you - I'm just going to move in up there and let them charge me rent. They got the stick out and prescribed some anti-biotics...just in case - seeing as how it was a dirty stick.
I also think Friday should be declared, "Primal Scream Therapy Day". Every Friday - not just today.
Since when did it become the PARENT'S job to call the bus line every day (school bus not a metro transit) and remind them to pick up the kids at a SCHEDULED stop???
On the flip side - both of my personalities would like to wish, and therefore will wish, my mother in law (faithful reader that she is) a VERY happy birthday!! Is that a forest fire? Oh...wait, that's just her cake. Yes, mama Pat, I know I will pay dearly for that.
Girlie, you don't even want to know what kinds of things I have "wrote down" to remember to do to Katie someday.
The worst of which include a stint with Mashed Potatoes.
Which speaking of Mashed Potatoes and wonderful Mother-in-laws. Wanna know what my MIL did to me the first time we met, sat down and had dinner together?
She choked. Yup! Inhaled a spoonful of Mashed Potatoes. Then she heaved. Heaved harder. Heaved even harder.
Then with one big forceful cough shot her mashed potatoes, with flecks of roast beef AND her upper dentures clear across the table smacking me right on my chest, while runny mucus filled Mashed potatoes trickled down my cleavage.
MORAL: If you don't get DS3 back, make sure to embarass him dearly in front of his soon to be wife.
Oh yeah! I already have blackmail material to chase away any potential "boyfriends" of Katie's that I do not like. I seek to embarass her dearly someday.
You're talking to a gal who had a niece who complained about what vehicle I picked her up from school in. Most days I had the work van because I picked her up on my way home from work.
She pitched a fit, and I mean a hissy fit because the van embarassed her and she wanted me to pick her up in Jon's convertable Mustang. So I did!
Top down and all, with my hair up in curlers, bright blue facial cream, big fuzzy slippers and in my housecoat. I loved it and my little darling neice will never ever forget it.
"Happy Birthday Mom!"
Girlie, you don't even want to know what kinds of things I have "wrote down" to remember to do to Katie someday.
The worst of which include a stint with Mashed Potatoes.
Which speaking of Mashed Potatoes and wonderful Mother-in-laws. Wanna know what my MIL did to me the first time we met, sat down and had dinner together?
She choked. Yup! Inhaled a spoonful of Mashed Potatoes. Then she heaved. Heaved harder. Heaved even harder.
Then with one big forceful cough shot her mashed potatoes, with flecks of roast beef AND her upper dentures clear across the table smacking me right on my chest, while runny mucus filled Mashed potatoes trickled down my cleavage.
MORAL: If you don't get DS3 back, make sure to embarass him dearly in front of his soon to be wife.