You want a plot, go read a novel.
While Mia was napping (ever so briefly) on my lap I took notes for this post in Sharpie on the back of a recent bank statement. I present the list verbatim as a sort of Preview of Coming Attractions. I would not blame you a bit if you decided to leave after the previews.
Santa - half my genetic material
Still here? Ready? Ok, here we go.
- Can someone please explain to me why I dreamed that we were having people over and therefore had to hide our monstrous stash of condoms? I haven't seen a condom outside of a drugstore in what? 10 years? Apparently my subconscious is advocating for a change in birth control around the Cactus-Fish household.
- You know what pisses me right the fuck off? People who don't RSVP. I go to the trouble to send you an invitation, how the fuck hard is it to say "thank you for your kind invitation, but I will not be attending?" Or "no thank you." Or "fuck you bitch, I don't want to go to your stupid party." When I had my baby shower last summer, three fucking people did not bother to RSVP. These people are dead to me. Also, failure to RSVP seems to cause me to say fuck a lot. Who knew?
- I went down to the basement this morning to switch the laundry (I don't think my washing machine has stopped running for more than an hour at a time in the last 5 months) and discovered a cat puke fiesta unlike anything I have ever encountered in my 25 years as a cat owner. Ya'll, it's amazing. There are puddles, there is spatter, there is a lovely zig-zag pattern that covers a running 10 feet of carpet. I would post a picture, but I can't get it all into one shot. I just thought you should know.
- Someone dear to me gave me a velour track suit for Christmas. This is the second velour track suit I received as a gift within a year. Um, no. I am not much for fashion and my personal style lately is baby puke chic, but I will not for any reason wear a track suit of any variety. Now if you are a fan of track suits, I'm sure you make it look hot. I look like I have removed my ass and replaced it with Kansas.
- Mia appears to be approximately four minutes away from sprouting a couple of teeth. You all wanna lie to me and tell me it will feel like feathers and angel kisses on my poor, abused boobs? I'm afraid of the teeth, very afraid.
- Santa didn't bring Mia anything this year, and if you have a problem with that you can stuff it. A certain member of my family, and I won't say who but let's just assume this is someone who may have supplied half of my genetic material, will not let it drop. All I have heard since I admitted that Santa was skipping us is "oh poor Mia." Poor Mia my smokin' ass. She is five months old and already has more plastic crap than she can possibly cram into her mouth, and if it isn't going into her mouth, she ain't interested. She was also obscenely spoiled by my entire family and I doubt I have made it longer than two days since she was born without heading out to buy her something. Santa will come next year when at least she can enjoy putting the boxes her gifts come in on her head.
- Excuse typos please, I have typed this entire thing with both of my thumbs in Mia's mouth and it is not quite as easy as it looks.