Monday, January 28, 2013

Snapshots From A Fidgety Brain

  Good morning! Today I am so painfully nervous about the impending Mental Health Evaluation tomorrow that my brain won’t stop fidgeting.
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  So what you get is basically a collection of snapshots of the Dean Household from yesterday…
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  The one thing my hubby DREADS waking up to on his day off; the sounds of his wife shouting, “SHIT!” from the bathroom with the buzz of clippers going in the background. (Hey, it doesn’t look THAT bad!)
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Fridge of Doom courtesy of twintana

Oldest: “When was the last time anyone cleaned the fridge? Have you SEEN what’s growing in the crisper drawer?”
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Me: “Hey! You leave that alone, it’s my experiment. I’m trying to grow my own life form.”
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Oldest: “You want me to add one of the eggs from the back to it?” (Let it be know the goose eggs at the back are of unknown age, but we’re all terrified to touch them for fear of one breaking open.)
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Me: “Ya know, that just may be what’s mussing! We can add one of the eggs then hit it with a jolt of electricity…”
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Oldest: “Bam! Instant life. And what would you call it?”
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Me: “They’d be Fridgetopians from the land of Fridgetopia. They’d do my bidding and assist in taking over the World!”
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A Knight's Tale

  I firmly believe the only way the movie A Knight’s Tale could have been any more fun would be if Chaucer’s intros had included the lines , “Sunday! Sunday! Sunday!” and “We’ll sell you a ticket for the whole seat, but you’ll only need the edge!”
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  For yet ANOTHER year we somehow managed to get all the Holiday decorations taken down and put away without anyone noticing the Stockings were still hung with care…
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  It has now been decreed as Law in my home that any cat that sleeps with his face buried in the Oldest Son’s armpit becomes his cat by default. (So sayeth The Girl.).
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  And last but oh so NOT least; it is a dumbass that fails to keep a close eye on the “Refils Left” status of their medications. Because it is the Law of the Universe that said dumbass will inevitably find herself standing at 9:00 PM on a Friday night, staring at an empty bottle of Gabapentin and the “Refills Require Authorization” printed ever so neatly on the label.

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