That Did Not Just Happen

Ok so it didn't just happen. It happened yesterday morning, but I haven't had a lot of time.

Phil usually makes pancakes for the kids and himself on Sunday mornings. I dislike pancakes with a passion. I prefer waffles, cause they aren't so mushy. So I usually eat my dry Special K.

Yesterday Phil decided that maybe waffles would be ok instead of pancakes, and he set out making them.

I'm kind of a busy body. I don't like him messing around in my kitchen. I don't like that he doesn't even try to keep things tidy. It's a mess. So I tend to hover. I clean up little things. I'm constantly putting away the potholders. I'm regularly throwing dirty utensils in the sink. I'm kind of a PITA.

He got a little snippy and told me to go sit down and leave him alone.

FINE. Douchecanoe.

So I'm trying really hard not to hover. REALLY HARD.

It takes him a year and a half to make a dozen waffles. I'm pretty sure my time is accurate.

I sit down to my waffle breakfast. I'm pretty happy that I didn't have to cook. I'm pretty happy that I got waffles instead of the floppy disks of mushy evilness that we usually have on Sunday mornings. Life is good.

I take my first bite. I'm not dead. That's good. YEAH.

I take my second bite and bite onto something that is kinda chewy. Hard... but chewy.

My first instinct was to get it out, naturally. I figured is was an egg shell or maybe a piece of plastic from the pancake mix... but chewy doesn't really apply to egg shell or bag.

So I pick it out of my mouth, and look at it.

All I could say was "THAT DID NOT JUST HAPPEN." I kept repeating it like some freak of nature. He is giving me that look that he gives me when I make fun of his cooking.

I set it down on the table so he could see why I was having a spaz attack.

A fingernail clipping.

A FUCKIN FINGERNAIL clipping.

And it didn't belong to anyone in our house.

It was ORANGE. And young adult size.

I had a moment. I nearly vomited. I had visions of the whole finger lying in wait in the remainder of my waffle.

Thank you God. You have now ruined waffles for me too. You have a sick sense of humor.

This Ain't The Friggin' Hokey Pokey

So yesterday I was lazy. I couldn't come up with any thing that sounded good for lunch, and our little grocery store was closed for the holiday. So it was pizza for lunch... and I just didn't eat. Hurk.

I set the pizza down in front of the kids saying to each little kid "It is hot. Leave it alone for a little bit or you'll burn yourself" they know what HOT means, and sat nicely for a few minutes while it cooled down enough to eat. I cut their pizza up, because... well just because... I don't know why, I guess it is less messy.

The big kids eat their pizza whole. I figured at the age of 8 and nearly 11 they would be old enough to know that *pizza is served HOT* but I still gave the warning *this just came out of the oven- HOT*

I sat down to the table with them. As I'm sitting there, I see my nearly 11 year old daughter sticking the pizza in her mouth, half way biting down, pulling the whole thing back out, and then doing it again. At least 5 times... never taking an actual bite because it was burning her.

So after seeing her do it several times my tourette syndrom kicked in. ahemmmm... this is what came out....

"WHAT THE HELL MAN! This ain't the hokey pokey! Ya don't put the whole thing in, then take the whole thing out! Take a bite, or LEAVE IT BE. GAAAAA"

She just about pissed herself. That was her new saying of the day. "This ain't the hokey pokey MAN!". I guess it beats the hell out of her typical "What goes on?" which makes me cringe. She kept saying I was the funniest mom ever. I agree.