Uncategorized

Shaping Up to be a Hot Mess of a New Years Eve

I stayed up till 2 a.m last night. I thought my sons had the rule down pretty well that unless the house is on fire or someone is sick, don’t wake me. This was my 1 week off and I wanted to at least sleep till 9.

At 8:07, P comes into my room and taps me on the shoulder. I was in an incredibly deep sleep from staying up so late along with the 3 glasses of Cabernet I consumed that were supposed to be for tonight.

I gave him the look of death. I was going to loose my shit if he said something like, “I’m hungry” or “watch my yo-yo trick.”

“Mom, I have strep throat,” he said in a raspy voice while clenching his throat. I wanted to scream. I am going to call it now; my oldest is a full blown hypochondriac. He has an ailment twice a day that usually resolves themselves by the end of the day. Plan on a post dedicated solely to his non-ailments.

“You don’t have strep throat P,” was the first thing out of my mouth. Then I thought, ‘who made me Dr. Quinn? Maybe he does have it. Yeah, but he probably doesn’t.’

I gave him a throat lozenge and said “wake me up in 20 minutes.” You could tell he didn’t find this acceptable. ‘Oh I’m sorry, would you like me to come down and watch you play your phone?’ I thought.

I laid back down. I can never get back to sleep no matter how hard I try. I punched the bed 3 times out of frustration, 10 minutes later. I grabbed my phone and headed downstairs.

At the foot of the stairs I noticed a moisture soaking into my left sock. I looked down to find about a 5 hour old, pool of piss. The icing on the cake were the 2 types of foot prints I noticed, jetting out in different directions, drying to the floor like the pee pool.

“C, did you step in Chi-Chi’s pee?”

“Yeah,” he answered like I had just asked if he took the last granola bar. He was preoccupied playing the X Box.

“Do you think you could have given me a heads up that there was a pool of pee right in front of the stairs so I wouldn’t step in it?”

“Sorry. But I stepped in it too,” he said as he stretched his entire body across the white pleather sofa.

“Oh my God, then why are your feet on the sofa?”

“There dry now,” he said as he transferred his feet from the sofa to the coffee table. I was too tired to walk C through the logistics of this. I would do it later.

Turns out, P is 100% o.k now. I know, I too was shocked at this Christmas miracle.

“My eyes are watering and hurt though”, he announced a few minutes after confirming his throat no longer hurt.

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Family · Getting to Know You · Ridiculousness

Financially a Hot Mess

My sister’s long term boyfriend decided a few months ago to get a desk job as a Financial Advisor. He is a ridiculously talented Artist yet it’s hard to find a great paying art gig, especially in the Midwest. “Starving Artist” sales weren’t ironically created. If you are an artist in any city other than NY, LA, Paris or London, I’m guessing you’re screwed.

Begrudgingly I agreed to a 1.5 hour long meeting to see what he has to offer in way of financial products and to support him. I love my sister and this was one way I could support them….for free.

At 3 PM I made the 45 minute journey to his office located in an overly priced business location of a “Lifestyle Center”. For anyone that doesn’t know what a lifestyle center is, it’s like a shopping center on steroids with usually indoor and outdoor shops along with even apartments.

I walked in to see S chatting with a co-worker. I suddenly had flashbacks of Wolf of Wall Street, though I didn’t anticipate any Advisors snorting coke off a hooker’s ass thank God.

This was the first time I saw him in a suit and it was borderline weird. This is the guy that wears newsboy caps, jeans and plaid snap shirts. This suit wasn’t him.

S guided me into a small conference room off the lobby. It had 4 plush chairs and a round cherry table. We made pleasantries for a few minutes then he unzipped a leather portfolio that probably was borrowed and pulled out a thick white paper that said CONFIDENTIAL at the top.

“We’ll go over this after I walk you through the financial cycle.” He said as he also pulled out a laminated 8″x 10″ card with what was a flow chart of some sort. My eyes began to glaze over.

He points to the first group of words. “Now this is where you decide what your goals are.” He pointed to the second group of words, “And this is where you make a plan on how to get there. Next you act on this plan,” he said as he pointed to the third grouping.

“I need you to stop right there,” I said holding 1 finger up. He stopped.

“See, here is where you should technically be my 2nd stop on the financial train. Your company, or any other company needs to employ Psychiatrists. You guys can preach this till the cows come home but if I can’t say no to my recent purchase of a gold, Nate Berkus stapler at Target because it’s 20% off, well then it’s all for nothing. I need to learn willpower and impulse control. This will never work.”

My revelation really didn’t lead to anything, just a floating ADD idea. I get a lot of these. After we went through the circle of life, he then focused his attention on the large, CONFIDENTIAL document that I knew would sting like a flu shot.

“Now this is the part no one likes,” he said. ‘You have no idea,’ I thought. Below is a brief outline of some of the questions, how I answered it and how I really wanted to answer it:

Q. Where do you want to be financially at retirement?

Answer in head: I want to be so fucking rich that I can buy whatever I want, whenever I want. Money is no object.

Actual answer given: Oh, good question. What am I allowed to say? Um, well enough money to bury me in the ground. No, mausoleum, mausoleum. It has to be a mausoleum, I’m claustrophobic. Money to put the boys through college and enough money that I don’t have to work part time at Wal-Mart as a greeter.

Q. Do you have student loans?

Answer in my head and actual answer given: Yes but I haven’t paid them in years and I have no idea how much I owe.

Q. Are you healthy?

Answer in my head: I haven’t exercised in 2 years. The only thing keeping me skinny is my anti-cancer medicine and my Ritalin.

Actual answer given: I thought I was healthy till my chance of breast cancer shot up by 400% after the Atypical Ductal Hyperplasia. That is that medicine I have to take for the next 5 years. Remember?

After about 30 minutes of airing my very dirty financial laundry, not to mention I was hangry and it was feeding time, I looked at S and in a very firm and serious tone, I laid out the train wreck before him.

“Look S, I am just trying to get to the point where I open my mail. I operate under ignorance is bliss. Definitely not a healthy approach and this is why I said my first stop needs to be a Psychiatrist. Can I just give you my mail? Can you just open it for me and tell me what I need to do?”

His jaw had dropped half way through my revelation and there was complete silence. I, being the type that hates awkward silence, flung myself back in my chair and whined, “can we just do something like Brittany Spears where you just deal with this stuff and I’m given an allowance or something?”

“I can’t do that.” He said matter of a fact.

“I know, but it’s a nice thought.”

 

 

Family · Holiday · Pop Culture · Ridiculousness

Just One Last Elf on the Shelf Pic

image

Really no words are needed for this. My cousin sent this to me 5 minutes ago.

Pop Culture · Ridiculousness

Is Choosing A Galaxy Note Over An IPhone Like Being Amish?

I am getting so frustrated with the lack of options for my Note 5 with regards to cases. Let me be clear here, I love my Note 5. I’ve had Notes for many years now. I got the Galaxy Gear watch when it first came out then the 2nd. After Apple got with the program, everyone now asks me, ” Is that an Apple phone?”

I mean, do people look at me on my white little tablet, writing notes  with my built in stylus and feel sorry for me? Like they should donate their first generation IPhone to me like a coat drive at church?

I know as I type this there are die hard Apple lovers ready to capture me for heresy and present me to the Apple authorities. Now just put down your kool-aid, attempt to scrub that moustache off and listen for a second. You are brainwashed. You are essentially paying for the name when you can find just as good technology, if not better in other brands. How many times have you heard someone announce “I can only do Apple”, as if it’s some sort of sorority and the announcement of this puts you in a higher caste system. You can only do Apple? What? Are you allergic to the Galaxy charger or something?

There really isn’t a point to this. I was just reading, thought of it and wanted to get it on paper. So are you team Apple or do you want to hop in my Amish buggie to the Samsung store to pick up the VR Gear?

Ridiculousness

My Birthday is Tomorrow…

dog birthday picture
A picture gift from my insane Cousin. She is slightly crazier than me.

….and it can truly kiss my ass. I will be real here and tell you that this has been the worse, the worse year of my life with the exception of 2003 when my father died. Look, the remainder of this post will be a wine fest so I don’t blame you if you leave now. If you stay, please grab some cheese to go with my wine because it’s pretty strong.

In 2014 I had my dream job as a Buyer for a small company. I increased sales by roughly 40%, had a team I loved and they loved me. Once the new HR Manager joined the team I was a little honest with her in telling her 2/3 of the staff got drunk at lunch and returned to work. I had told my Merchant team up front the following:

“Look, I can put down a bottle of Cabernet on any given Tuesday evening. As part of my team, don’t drink at lunch, k?” They were more than fine with this.

Two weeks after my revelation to HR or 6 weeks before Christmas, my Jersey Shore boss (wearing a blue tooth, I kid you not) and the new HR Manager came into my office and sat on my sofa. They fired me for “not being a good fit and assured me I did ABSOLUTELY nothing wrong.” I was given a large severance and that was it. I seeked the advice of a lawyer who said although what they did was legal, they would eventually be their own worst enemy in their procedures. In a nutshell it was easier to fire the whistle blower then all of IT and most of Marketing.

4.5 months later in April, 2015, I had a “boob itch” while reading in bed one morning. To my shock I found a lump. I purposely did not do breast checks because let’s be real here, ignorance is bliss.

So, a physician checkup, a mammogram, a core biopsy and lumpectomy later, it was determined I had Atypical Ductal Hyperlasia. What the hell is that, you ask? Basically your chances of getting breast cancer went from 0 to like a 200% chance. Awesome, but that’s about right given my luck.

My Oncologist started me on Tamoxifen. I would be on this for the next 5 years. What blows is I have hot flashes. I thought hot flashes equaled no period but alas I would still get them. There was a good part though, I lost my appetite! I went from 142 to about 132. FREAKIN’ AWESOME! Look, don’t judge me, tryin’ to find the silver lining here.

After my own personal research I realized that my anti-depressant voids the work of the tamoxifen. Neither doctor, though I love both, failed to realize this. I don’t hold any resentment for this, they are only human and have a million things to think about.  I only found this through research. So I had to go off my anti-depressants which was super sweet given oh I don’t know….everything! I found a pharmacist that was able to recommend several vitamins to counter the depression. I am still in the process in deciding on if this will work or not.

Lastly, the icing on the cake is my job. I am a stiletto wearing fashionista who at the 11th hour of my unemployment found a position as a boot buyer for a Southwest company located in the Midwest. I knew I would get this job because simply, funny finds me. I have come to appreciate the handmade side of boots and I love wearing them. My boss on the other side is what horror movies are made of. Rest assured, if I can get enough followers/likes, I will be bringing you stories of this hot mess. Hilarious, I can assure you.

 

 

 

 

Family · Holiday · Pop Culture · Ridiculousness

Drone Wars Part 1

I come down today from my 30 minute make believe nap to discover the boys attempting to rip into their new drones. My husband went up to take a cat nap of 3 hours so I knew I would be the drone queen for the afternoon.

P was already screwing something to something on his drone while C risked slitting his wrist while opening his box with a knife.

“Oh sweetie, let me do that.” I say lovingly as I grab the knife. I take each item out of the box anxiously looking for the directions since I know zilch about drones.

Of coarse P is the older son and has a 98 page manual written in English, Spanish and French detailing every possible scenario that could happen with the drone including when it falls into the hands of a zombie.

C being the youngest son has an adorable pamphlet that folds twice failing to label the sole diagram of the drone. After checking the box twice and the table laden with legos and candy, I came to the conclusion this drone was specifically created for a physic or a rocket scientist. The average Joe would need to return it to Best Buy for a Walkman.

I had read up on drones paying special attention to an article labeled “5 things you should know before you buy a drone.” Things I found particularly interesting is entry level drones fly for an average of 8 minutes but then require 60 minutes of charging. Yes, because that’s practical with children. Something else I learned is the first order of business is to learn just to hoover 4′ above the ground.

20 minutes later P was throwing on his coat to go in our backyard and test his new toy. I was curious so I stood at the backdoor and watched. P placed the drone on the patio table, looked over at me and mouthed while using his left hand a 5 second countdown.

I grinned encouragingly at him excited to see this new found technology. By now C had joined me. All of a sudden we heard 3 beeps through the glass and up went the drone about 20′ over the patio. Then like P’s hopes that the Beat box at Christmas was going to be a drone, it all came crashing down. Suddenly I see 4 parts slamming down then jetting onto the grass.

Completely shocked by this  development I scream “SHIT!” despite C standing next to me. I never curse in front of my children. I go running out to inspect the damage.

“Oh my God, what happened?”

“Ohhh, I forgot to screw in the blade guards. My bad.”

I didn’t have it in me to scold. I was working on a few hours of sleep due to the holidays and I just wanted to go inside. Fortunately nothing was broken. I took it upon myself to screw in the blade guards so this wouldn’t happen a second time.

C was up next. I trusted he had studied his pamphlet to guess what to do. Since he was only 7 I walked out with him to assist him and to ensure he didn’t hurt himself with a random blade or something.

“O.k baby, remember, hoover just 4′, o.k?” I asked.

“Yup!” He said excited.

He placed his drone on the grass and stepped back 2′.

“Baby, step back a few more feet. I don’t need that thing ripping off your face or something.” He smiled at this.

Like an Einstein, he beautifully elevated the drone just 2′. Hey, 4′ can wait, 2′ is good. But this was not an acceptable height for C.

All of a sudden the drone began to elevate now just as high as our shed. 12′ maybe? Then suddenly this devil machine shot up into orbit becoming smaller and smaller for the eye to see.

I went ballistic. “C! C! Stop it, not that high. Oh my God!!!!”

I could not believe how high these things could fly. I felt like I was in some futuristic movie or something. Then as fast as it shot up it came crashing down landing on it’s side up against our neighbor’s fence. The blades were still rotating and it almost looked like it was shaving off tiny pieces of the fence.

C went to grab it but like a rabid animal I pushed him out of the way and said “No! Don’t touch it.” I didn’t know if the blades could slice your fingers off and I wasn’t going to find out.

Like picking up a horseshoe crab, I took the remote from his hand and used the antenna to pick up the drone by carefully sliding it under one of the blade shields.

As we began to walk back to the house I asked C, “C, how big is 4′?”

He must of thought this whole event was funny because with a grin he quickly elevated his hand just above him.

“That’s right. So why did you send it to orbit?”

“It wouldn’t stop.” He responded. I rolled my eyes and let out a big exhale.

So today it’s pouring and will do so all day. You can’t get these things wet and the boys are dying to try again. I don’t know if I have the patience to watch this debacle again in action. God give me the strength for the Drone Wars.

 

 

Family · Holiday · Ridiculousness

Drone as Presents?

Be honest, when you hear drone you think warfare or small villages being blown up? At least this was the zeitgeist a few years ago. Apparently, now they are overpriced toys you purchase on Christmas Eve at Best Buy because one child has one extra present more than the other and “everything has to be fare”.

So, both boys were now within $17 of each other. I thought this was pretty good. Secretly I knew my oldest would loose his shit when the youngest opened the drone that he was not getting. He wasn’t getting a drone because he wanted Beats. He had Beats already but chose those sports ones on the basis of “Lebron wears them.” I was done, over it, finito.

As C opened the drone P put his hands over his mouth in sheer disbelief as he began to tear up. Not because he was so happy for his brother but because of sheer jealousy.

“P, open your gift!” I said trying to diffuse the situation. As I reached for the Beats I realized in that instant that the box was the exact same size as the drone. He began to smile a ‘oh, there’s my drone. Shhheewww, you scared me for a second mom.’

As P opened his gift he was a little happy about the Beats but quietly devastated. He asked for a drone on Thanksgiving as we were combing through the black Friday ads. I had intentions on getting him one. C had asked for one too. As time went on, I never heard another word about the the drone. In fact I heard more about the Beats then the drone so overall I thought we were good.

As we went  through the presents P came to the realization he wasn’t getting a drone and was fighting back tears. I felt like a complete ass hole and quickly racked my brain for a remedy.

‘Speedway is open on Christmas. Maybe they have a drone?’ was my first thought. ‘Hospital gift shop?’ Popped into my head.

I thought about posting the following on Facebook:

We have an emergency. Does anyone want to sell me their drone for $150? Private message me asap. Thanks in advance!

I came to the conclusion I had to do what I always said I wouldn’t. I scooted over to him (we were on the floor in front of the tree) and whispered in his ear, “tomorrow morning, first thing we’ll go get you a drone. Ok?”

I couldn’t help it. I caved. But I caved because one of my greatest fears happened on Christmas, my child was disappointed. That is like someone stabbing your heart. I think I told him this selfishly for my own mentality. He shook his head in agreement and grinned a little.

So today, after P’s ridiculously early soccer game (I’m certain the person doing the soccer scheduling does NOT celebrate Christmas) I hauled ass to Toys R Us. I dreaded it but to my surprise it was virtually empty. Since I’m such a tough mom, I did tell P he would have to put the 2 items he wanted to return towards the purchase of the drone. Since 1 was a gift from his cousin and we didn’t have a receipt I managed to get a lofty 11.76 back with tax to put towards the drone.

Tonight or tomorrow I will post about our first flying session from a few hours ago. Let’s just say C heard mommy curse for the first time and P saw what an adult meltdown looks like in it’s raw form.

 

Holiday · Ridiculousness

Starting to Feel the Christmas Rush

I’m starting to loose my shit about Christmas. I’m behind schedule. I still have to buy a drone (never thought I would say that) and 1-2 lego sets. I’ve numbered the boys presents and keeping a careful watch on the # of presents each have to open because Lord knows if one has just one more than the other then suddenly the mound of gifts sitting behind them were all for nothing.

I have a younger sister by 8 years. I love her very much and she is my best friend. That being said, she is always late and never responds to texts. She has a live in boyfriend and they have 2 dogs to which they call their “fur babies”….ahem. After 4 texts asking her for a few Christmas ideas, she decides to bestow the following manifesto:

Christmas.list

Taking a page from a guy’s handbook on Christmas shopping, I opt for the wine glasses. They will be affordable and it’s cut and dry on what it is. Trendy jewelry to one person may be complete trash to another.

I go online to order the wine glasses and find they are $14.95…a piece! A piece! Are they made out of glass from the 14 century? My idea of getting her 6 has  now dwindled to 4. Initially I declined the 10% off offer in exchange for not having another e-mail come to my inbox. Hastily I cleared my cache and went back on the homepage again to retrieve the promo code. $14.95 has now gone down to $13.46. She’s still only getting 4. I also select the pickup in store which obviously means I was either drunk or insane during this choice being it was just 5 days before Christmas.

Today it was pouring so I thought this was a great day to go to an outdoor mall to get my sister’s wine glasses, 4 days before Christmas. I was excited to find that based on the WAZE app (GPS), I could get there within 14 minutes from work. Sweet!

I pulled out my phone to glance at the directions as I pulled out of the parking lot.

‘Hmm, that’s funny,’ I thought. My GPS signal must not be working yet. WAZE has a lot of roads I’ve never heard of before. I was clearly expecting to hit the highway.

I know there are many GPS systems out there. If you have the opportunity to select the option AVOID GHETTOS, I would make that change right now. Here is how you know you are in the ghetto: christmas.shopping.ghetto

Yes, if there is an internet cafe with a Mad Maxx vehicle in the parking lot, your probably not on 5th Avenue, Manhattan. Just sayin’.

I eventually made it to Easton at approximately 11:40 confident I had beat the lunch rush. I did not. I played chicken with multiple cars in the Barnes and Noble parking inventing new curse words for the stay at home moms and senior citizens that took my parking spaces. After a 133 yr old couple got into their Lincoln (aka Titanic) and pulled out, I officially had a spot. I truly felt like the shit.

5 minutes later I was the next one in line at Crate and Barrel when a 27 year old sales associate approached me.

“Can I help you?” she asked in a snotty voice. Like I was a pledge at her sorority.

“Yeah, I had an internet order I placed yesterday. It’s for 4 wine glasses.”

Princess Ass Hole turned around and typed a few things in her computer then turned back to me with a complete 180 change in behavior.

“Ok, let me go grab that box for you” she said smiling sweetly.  Apparently her 2 weeks of seasonal training paid off because she found my box.

As I walked back to my car I snickered a little thinking about how much I have changed and how much my sister would eventually. My sister felt $15 wine glasses were practical. I once did a double take at my son’s toddler stacking cups 5 years ago wondering if I could pour wine in them since the wine glasses were in the dishwasher. Unfortunately no, there was a tiny hole in the plastic. Duck tape? I settled on a measuring cup.

Pop Culture

Star Wars

If I see one more product with Star Wars slapped across the package I am going to scream. I know as an American, what I just said borders on sacrilegious and I’m prepared to face the consequences. When you take a very well made movie (for the time) and bleed it dry with prequels, sequels and quarter quells, you can just picture a douchy, childless, early thirties something with a receding hair line in the board room screaming SELL, SELL, SELL. Suddenly your childhood memories are nothing more than a gimmick to promote mascara and sugar cookies.

So currently I can hear my oldest son in our front room playing Battlefront the new Star Wars X Box1 game that I got his little brother for his birthday. Sadly he’s played it more than C. The graphics are amazing but essentially I paid for them to walk around and shoot people and be killed by BIGBURRITO1  or CRAZYLOCO. This causes both of them to flip out and whine.

“Uh! Why am I always getting killed?”

“Your just learning. You just have to practice,” I say.

“But they are so much better than me,” P whines. And the whining continues on and off for the next 10 minutes which eventually causes me to snap.

“Look, you wanna know why those other 39 people are better?”

He pauses his game, turns around to look at me and shakes his head.

“These nerds were in line at Best Buy on November 17th when it was available for purchase even though 18 copies were left for anyone who wanted to get a respectable amount of sleep. Between pizza delivery, classes or Wizard 101, they have been putting on their little head phones,” I make a gesture as if I’m putting on head phones but in a more patronizing way, “and playing this game for HOURS, often in the basement of their parent’s ranch.”

P looked perplexed.

I calmed my fury as it was with the Pillsbury R2D2 cookies and not this gullible child in front of me. I sighed.

“Look, all I’m saying is your not good and it’s for a good reason, you have a life.”

Star Wars on Sunday

Since my husband is turning 41 on Monday we are going to celebrate his birthday Sunday and go see Star Wars at Marcus Theaters. We’ve become super spoiled with the dream loungers. For anyone who doesn’t know what dream loungers are, they are basically fully reclining movie chairs. So, in lieu of getting to second base as a teen in the theaters, you now have the option of a bed.

I’m semi-excited to see this movie but for the first time I am going to post questions that came to my mind as a child while watching the first Star Wars movies:

  1. Where the fuck is Earth? As an 8 year old watching the movie for the first time this really disturbed me. If Earth wasn’t around that means my family wasn’t either. I really couldn’t grasp that for a while. Well, honestly, where did Earth go?
  2. Why was Princess Leia in her late 30’s? Maybe she wasn’t and this was pre-collagen days but I always thought she was too old.
  3. Where was C-3PO’s husband? I just addressed the elephant in the room. Your welcome.
  4. How did the ewoks become so f-ing cute? I mean, their little flat faces paired with their little furry pudgy bodies? I had a plush ewok and it was my baby. When I moved on to Cabbage Patch Kids, I felt an immense amount of guilt but realized my ewok would understand this transition and eventually go back to it’s village.
  5. Wait, if Princess Leia and Luke are brother and sister, they can’t….kiss…..what?

So, I’ll be interested to see if this new round of Star Wars brings additional memories or questions. I hope the boys enjoy it. If it sucks, we will simply have a nice expensive nap for 2 hours.

Uncategorized

School Money Maker?

As a child, I was always excited to attend an assembly for a school fundraiser. As a 10 year old, the prizes were AMAZING!  Sell $50, get a slap bracelet. Sell $51 to $200, get a walkman. Sell $201 to $400, receive a skateboard. Holy shit, the possibilities were endless.

When my sons attended a faith based private school, they would be sent home with 2 catalogs. One would have all of these sugary fudges,cookies or mix you simply mixed with cream cheese that would override your sensory glands and deliver the following message: “it’s cream cheese and this shit is good. Now can you direct me to your thighs please?” The 2nd catalog would be sent home consisting of junk priced roughly 200% over cost including wall plaques, cookery and wrapping paper.

As a “go-getter” each year, I would attempt to cheat my son’s existing fundraising system. I say “cheat the system” because rewards were based on units, not dollar numbers. ‘Holy shitballs!’ I thought, ‘all I have to do is order 7 units of something that costs $1.99 and I won…I mean, he has won.’

When the catalog came home I quickly retrieved it from their backpack. Surely there has to be an array of useless Christmas junk ranging in price from $1.99 to $249.00.

Obviously the Mad Men of “Scam Another School” thought this through. The cheapest item was a roll of wrapping paper for $6.99! $6.99. ‘Me too cheap for $6.99,’ I thought.

To give you perspective on my philosophy, I have been physically “visiting” the following wrapping paper at Target , awaiting it to be marked down. It’s by Sugar of Los Angeles and was $5.00 a roll. I hesitated because I had visions of wrapping a tie box and an X Box 1 game and the roll would be done. I waited, I was good. After Black Friday, I had a 20% off coupon, so I decided to pull the trigger. Yes, I just used that douche expression, sorry. I bought the wrap with my red card and got it for $3.80. I don’t know why I’m saying this but I feel the need to drop a mic and say “your welcome.”

Back to the overpriced, tacky wrapping. Suddenly my estimated purchase of 7 had been reduced to 2.  Admittingly, I am a wrapping paper snob and the paper selection was less than stellar. Skylanders or country snowman? Really? Clydesdales with wreaths around their necks? Did the Amish design this paper? Dear God!

On the last day of the sale I decided to be honest and upfront with my 6 year old.

“Look, you have sold 8 products which is awesome! We would have sold more but you are peacing out of this school after this year so if we were to sell more…well it would be kinda’ like helping the opposition.” I realized that was a word he was unfamiliar with.

“…like helping the bad guys.” I elaborated.

“My school has bad guys mommy?”

Realizing my transgression I quickly brushed his forehead, “No, no! Your school has all good guys. We just want to give you a leg up for your future school!”

“You want to give me an extra leg?” He said now clearly freaking out.

“Oh gosh no. Basically we want you to be the smartest in your class.” Really no sense in beating around the bush here.

This seemed to please him and he went about his way. Well guys, I’m tired, it’s 12:35 am and I will continue my story tomorrow if anyone has even read this. Good night!