I'm not gonna smell it.....You smell it!

Well, that was a nice shower. Washed my hair, shaved my legs, etc...very soothing. Got out and grabbed my soft, fluffy, white towel. Dried my hair, my face, my body, got down to my ankles and found this:


Don't worry. It's just chocolate. I'm, like, 85% sure it's chocolate. Yep. Chocolate.

It's opposite day here in Crazytown

The boys are completely geeked because they don't have to go to school today. We got the call at 5:09 a.m. that school would be canceled for a snow day.

I think the boys are going to put their boots on and run right out to build a snowman.

Which should be fun in a yard that looks like this:




My theory is that the school faculty had a massive holiday party last night and everyone got all baked and thought it would be really funny to cancel school when there's NO FUCKING SNOW!

D. thinks I misinterpreted the cancellation phone call and we're actually having a 'now day:

Syphillis, Mom.....Genital Warts, Mom

After reading this post, D. suggested that I consider changing my blog name from "Laugh, Mom" to "Clap, Mom."

There are so many things wrong with that, I don't even know where to start.

Our yard is way too small for a goat

Peanut's best friend is this girl in his class, Stacie*. I love her. She is chubby and wears glasses, and looks just like that girl from Little Miss Sunshine. Peanut loves her because she is funny and spunky and has a pool table in her basement and doesn't play with Barbies. Stacie is awesome. Stacie is so awesome that I had a talk with her mom about the potential for a betrothal.
Her mother was amenable to the idea, and we agreed that if I bought her family a goat, Peanut could have her daughter when she reaches a marriageable age. This way, I don't have to worry about Peanut giving me a crappy daughter-in-law. What a relief.
Yesterday, when I was eavesdropping outside the boys' room casually walking past the boys' room, I overheard Peanut and Moon having a conversation about Stacie:

Peanut: Stacie has a crush on Grace.
Moon: Girls don't have crushes on girls.
Peanut: Uh huh! Stacie says she has a crush on Grace and she wants to kiss her!

Unless Stacie is bi, I'm afraid I'm going to get my goat back.



*Names changed to protect my potentially bisexual potential future daughter-in-law

O! Pinata, you are all full of delicious candy

Since D. couldn't make it to Peanut's holiday music program this morning, I thought I'd type up a nice little synopsis for him:

9:14 a.m. - The Baby and I sit down in the back row next to a very friendly dad (not pervie friendly, just regular friendly). He tries to strike up a conversation, but the only thing I can think of to say is, "You smell like pickles." Because he does. Not even good dill pickles. Nasty bread and butter pickles.

9:15 a.m. - Kindergarten classes start to enter the room. Parents stand and wave like crazy idiots to their children. I think, "That is so not cool. I am not doing that."

9:16 a.m. - Peanut walks up on stage and looks all around the room, trying to figure out where I'm sitting. I wait patiently for him to make eye contact. He doesn't see me in the back of the room.

9:16:10 a.m. - I jump out of my chair and furiously flail my free arm in Peanut's direction while whisper-shouting, "Peanut! Peanut! Over here!" Coolness be damned. I need to get credit for attending this thing and it doesn't count if Peanut doesn't see me.

9:20 a.m. - The kids sing, "Up on the Housetop." It's cute.

9:23 a.m. - The music teacher announces the next song will be "O, Chanukah." Peanut cups his hands around his mouth and yells, "Mom, you know this one." I do, because he's been singing it for the last two weeks.

9:26 a.m. - Four students from Peanut's class come forward and give a recitation. They finish and walk back toward the stage. Peanut points to me in the back of the room, narrows his eyes, and in a demonic voice commands, "Clap, Mom!"

9:26:10 a.m. - I clap. Vigorously.

9:27 a.m. - The kids start singing a song about Kwanzaa. It has a good rhythm. One of the girls from Peanuts class digs it. I mean, really, really digs it. She starts dancing. Like an egyptian. It's freakin' hilarious and parents are trying to keep their giggles quiet. Myself included.

9:27:30 a.m. - The first titters from the audience reach the kindergarteners on stage. They realize that someone is doing something funny. Suddenly, they are transformed into a congress of Tourette's sufferers. All manner of tics and twitches erupt. One boy waves his hands over his head, another spins in circles. Peanut slaps himself on top of the head in time to the music. The parents laugh harder. The kids become more outlandish. And so on.

9:29 a.m. - The kids sing a song about pinatas. I'm confused.

9:31 a.m. - I am still confused, but the program is over and I'm glad I went. The whole thing was very entertaining. Plus, Peanut's demon voice scared me and I don't want to cross him.

I'm not invited

There's a penis party at my house, and I'm not invited.

D. and the boys are doing karaoke to Green Day, playing games on the iPhone and watching TV, which has just been changed from football to Space Balls.

The Baby was sitting with me, but once he got his fill of tit he lifted his arms for Daddy to pick him up. He wanted to go to the penis party. Traitor.

All four of the males in my family are crowded around the tiny love seat, doing dude things, while I am alone on the full sized couch.

There's a penis party at my house, and I'm not invited. But I don't mind, because the penis party kind of smells like fart.