Seriously.
And does Tasha really have keep putting my shoes up, in the hanging shoe rack in my closet? I keep looking for them in the bottom of my closet and they are not there. Then I search the house, get frustrated and look in the closet again. Then I realize.
Seriously.
Is the kitchen island really the dumping ground for all things in the house? Receipts, coins, printouts, old playdough, old and new batteries that get mixed up so I don't really know which is which, fuzzy produce that probably wasn't fuzzy to begin with but it is now because it got buried under all these other items, cars that don't belong to us, a keyring, a chongo, vitamins, EMPTY cereal boxes, 4 empty cups...
Seriously.
Is it my fault that a fire truck was parked outside the QT that I needed to gas at this afternoon? And was it coincidence that said firetruck was manned by 4 fine lookin' men, 2 in the navy blue short gear, and 2 in fireman pants with hanging suspenders and boots? Is anyone doubting my love for firemen?
Seriously.
Why can my kids get along when I'm gone to the chiropractor, but then fight like cats and dogs when either myself or Bill is home? Bill has a theory that we should leave them alone more often so they know they can get along together and will get used to it. Somehow this theory makes sense, but sounds wrong. Very wrong.
Seriously.
It's my husbands birthday tomorrow. Do I really have to write nice, gushy things about him? We all know how great he is, right? Blah, blah, blah, he's super. 'Nuf said.
Seriously.
2 comments:
Seriously. I get it. You are pregnant and everything is annoying. Seriously, this stuff is serious to you. I know, I'm serious when I'm pregnant too. And I stink too, it must be hormonal.
LOL... I have these issues too and I'm not pregnant. Maybe that's a sign. :)
You're right... Bill is awesome!
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