Smiling Mom

OMG the other day I had to LMAO.  I was, like, TOTALLY fee­ling 15 years old again! LOL.

Totally.

So, now I’m rac­king my 12 remai­ning post-child birth brain cells trying to remem­ber what it was that made me feel so young.

Was it my sag­ging, one size sma­ller post nur­sing perky breasts?

No, no.

Oh, oh!  Was it my 8 pounds hea­vier post preg­nancy svelte body?

No, no.

Oh! Oh!  Now I remember.

I was sit­ting in the dermatologist’s office tal­king to him about those unsightly ble­mishes crop­ping up all over my face again, fif­teen years later! and asking him to presc­ribe me anything, oh ANYTHING that will help res­tore my youth­ful glow.

Ya.  that was it.

Good times.

Like, totally.

Look!!

Hubby pic­ked this broom up and began swee­ping WITHOUT me asking!!!

Won­ders never cease!

(I think that he’s trying to get a piece… it might work!)

I am not.

Well actually, did you mean with my margarine?

OK, then yes. I am.

I have, for years, been scra­ping my mar­ga­rine in per­fect cir­cu­lar motions.

For years.  Like since I was a child.

When I was in college I was Hubby’s RA.  That’s actually how we met.  (I love men­tio­ning that!!)  And before we even really became friends he snea­ked into my apart­ment, got out a knife and butche­red my per­fectly quaf­fed margarine.

So what did I do?

I up and married him.  That’s right.  I sig­ned on to a life­time sen­tence of mar­ga­rine marring memories.

With his shady pass, I natu­rally assu­med the above happy face was his doing .

Really, what was I sup­pose to think?

Of course I bla­med him!!

Hubby still claims that he had nothing to do with The Man In The Mar­ga­rine, but puh-leese.  Who else knows how to drive me crazy, for months at a time without saying A. Sin­gle. Word??

Hubby.

Although he hasn’t admit­ted guilt yet, I’ve not stop­ped cur­sing him each mor­ning I take it out and but­ter my deli­cious English Muffins.

Damn Man.

Why is it that when Hubby does something to aggra­vate me, it sec­retly turns me on??  Like a lot.  Why??

******

On anther note, thank you so much for your help, or ass-vice as Jen­ni­fer Play­grou­pie likes to call it, via com­ments and links.  I do appre­ciate your thoughts!

Basi­cally it seems to be like everything else with mothe­ring.… Each child is dif­fe­rent.  Some fami­lies begin the inde­pen­dent wiping around 3 1/2 but defi­ni­tely by age 5.  Although it seems that some five year olds don’t wipe all to well still.  And neither do some hus­bands! (Check out the com­ments!)

And ever­yone recom­mends the wet Cot­to­ne­lle type wipes.  And I couldn’t agree more with this!  We are huge fans in our house.

So thanks again!

OK, this is about the fun­niest thing I’ve read for a long time!! Check out this mom of SIX’s eBay auc­tion item. She has a blog too. Oh my. I laughed out loud when rea­ding this!!

Oh and thank you for all your ass-vice yes­ter­day!  I will post the much awai­ted mar­ga­rine story tomo­rrow morning!