Okay, here it is, I’m just gonna lay it all out on the table.
I’m not a kid person. I didn’t play with babydolls when I was little. Cabbage patch dolls creeped me out. I didn’t fantasize about what I’d name my child. I was the youngest, not only in my immediate family, but among all my many cousins except one, who was one year younger than me. I didn’t babysit. Ever. I don’t get the whole “baby smell” thing. I think you’re just smelling Johnson & Johnson shampoo, and if you like it that much, you should just use that shampoo yourself. If you hand me your child, the only thought in my brain until you take it back is, “Oh my god, I’m gonna drop it.” It. Yes, I think of your baby as an it. I’m sorry. I don’t call my cat my kid. I’m not her “mommy.” Adam is not her “daddy.” She is not a surrogate child. The thought of having a human who depends on me for everything is exhausting and terrifying. I sometimes feel that dogs are too clingy.
There are three children in the whole world that I actually like, and two of them will someday call me “aunt.” So maybe you should take this with a grain of salt, but:
Your two-year-old does not need to see Hostel. This is coming from someone who watched a lot of R-rated movies as a child. Until I was about twelve, the only thing that mattered to me in a movie was body count. And still, I’m telling you. Your two-year-old does not need to see Hostel. If you feel it’s important they learn about the dangers of travel, get them a book. Tell them a story. Get the Rick Steves’ Europe Through the Back Door series. (And you should probably do that last one before they’re old enough to giggle at the title.) Seriously.
Sorry, I’ve been holding that in for a long time. Ever since I worked at a movie theater while Hostel was out.
Also, Hostel sucks. Not only are you a bad parent, but you have crappy taste in movies.
In other news, *****SPOILER ALERT!!! DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN THE SEASON FINALE OF COMMUNITY!!!!****
Jeff and Annie! Eeeeeeeeeeeee!!
I’ve been treating my job like a hobby lately. And treating my hobby like a job. I should stop, but I can’t. Any tricks you guys can recommend?
We still only have a mini-fridge. Harrumph.
And you know, the funny thing is, we don’t use a lot of space in a regular-sized fridge. Everyone else I know has to cram things into their fridge because it’s so full. Not us. Our fridge is usually only half full and half of that stuff is probably past it’s expiration date. The freezer, however, we use every inch of.
I like ice cream and pizza rolls.
In that paragraph above, when I put “half full”, it’s because my brain said half empty, but I was like, no, I’m going to be positive today.
In the spirit of the title of this blog (and also because I don’t have a lawn mower yet), my back yard is a dandelion utopia. All the dandelions are blooming, thinking to themselves, “I know this is what I said I wanted, but doesn’t it feel sinister somehow? Like maybe it’s too perfect? In our pursuit of perfection, have we lost our humanity?” Relax, dandelions. It’s not like there’s some higher being plotting to cut off your heads, and it’s just waiting til it’s paycheck comes in so it can afford the giant rotating blade machine to do it’s dirty work. *shifty eyes*