So, we had waffle fries for dinner. I had a heck of a day, running back and forth from one part of the campus to another, into the OR 3 times to pick up, well, let’s just call it…stuff (you would thank me for not describing what i was doing, if you knew what I was doing, but you don’t so…just thank me). I don’t have to scrub in, just put on an attractive lunch lady hat, shoe covers, and mask and stand next to the circulating nurse to get my…stuff, but do this off and on for a total of 6 times. Approximately once an hour for three hours (shuttle ride back and forth each way). Oh and all of this after I had to ride the shuttle across campus to get hospital-specific scrubs, ‘cause there were none in my office and GOD-forbid I wear the wrong color scrubs to the wrong OR. I mean, really? They actually won’t let you in.
On top of the fact that it’s not even my job, my coworker is on vacation in FLORIDA and I have to fill in.
Where she’s hanging
What I’m doing
So, I was tired, and crabby, and didn’t want to take my husband’s work truck to the grocery store (the Heir has my car. Yup he’s going to some Batman marathon culminating in a midnight showing of the new movie, lucky). The Spare made himself 6 peanut butter sandwiches for lunch, and neither the Patriarch nor I wanted to cook. Therefore, we pulled frozen French fries out of the freezer and, 24 minutes later dinner! ‘Cause I’m all about the balanced meal.
I love our four dogs but this weekly bathing combined with washing the sofa and loveseat slipcovers is wearing mighty thin. When we go on our stay in Texas vacation (also known as Dante’s 5th ring of hell) I may have to pull a Mitt on all four of them.
While the Heir was on his way to his marathon of all things Batman, he got a speeding ticket. His first and just a day after criticizing the Patriarch for his. He called me to let me know, before his father could. The Patriarch forgets that part of being 17 is being, well…17.
Project Runway started last night. Technically tonight since I’m writing this on Thursday evening, all in an attempt to place within the top 25 posts on Jen’s blog (I didn’t make it, boo) I love Project Runway. I have yet to have my favorite designer win any cycle. Crazy Anya won last season, the time before Mondo lost to Gretchen (ugh…I don’t care what you say Michael, she was not fashion forward). And, no one really cares about the designers before that. The Patriarch hates it but I don’t care. I love Heidi and I love Tim Gunn. You know, Tim really rates high in my book because he claims to have been celibate for the past 20+ years. I admire a man or woman who chooses to be monogamous in a marriage or chaste as a single person. I think he’s a great role model for gays and straights.
Oh, and Melissa looks like a blonde Anne Hathaway. Remember, one day you’re in, the next you’re out (this is in no way a spoiler).
I’m very proficient at needlework (won ribbons at the State Fair) but I don’t know how to crochet or knit. My sister is an awesome crocheter and my MIL knits fabulously. I’m trying to learn to crochet (in between everything else I do) and since I don’t really have time to actually crochet, it’s really good that I have plenty of time to post pictures of someone else’s crocheted items on Pinterest.
I know that I’m a slacker in the world of moms with more than 2 kids. We only have one bathroom, and I know lots of people have higher kids-to-toilet ratios. But with two boys and a husband, the next bathroom I get (or redo) will be all yellow, with a big drain right in the middle of the room. Just sayin’.
The Spare’s school offered Dancing Classrooms for each of the past 3 years. The 7th grade doesn’t participate because they’re too hormonal and self-conscious. He took lessons in 5th and 6th grade. A few weeks ago he asked a friend’s daughter to dance at her Quinceanera. I almost cried watching him waltz her around the dance floor. He hated the lessons but little does he know how popular he will be as an adult because he actually knows how to dance.
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