My kids suck the living life out of me
It is Monday morning and I had to sneak out of our room up in Tahoe to the McDonalds down the street just so I could do a little writing. We got here, our nuclear family, this last Saturday night and have playing “vacation” at a resort. The prior post about passwords wasn’t planned so much as just fell out of my mouthass* (new word copyright pending).
My god my son and his constant “DADDY DADDY” stuff. Ugh. I love the little guy but the little guy just won’t shut the hugs up. The only way I got him to be quiet for more than thirty seconds in one single stretch, besides using the chloroform, was to threaten no ice cream. I’m glad I still have my excess stock of chloroform left over from my single, and not so single, days of hearing “Not tonight, I have (blah blah…)”
*(don’t get your panties in a bunch. This is meant in humor. Sheep don’t actually say Blah Blah as its more of a Bah Bah.)
Did I just call my life partner a..? “EEwwww…” Ah that’s more like the sound I’m used to.
How does a guy with nothing but hand grenades get himself out of a deep pit? By using another grenade of course.
I kind of feel like the picture above.
Only then do I realize what it is I’ve jumped onto in the picture below.
Ugghh…
Guess I better quit before the wife hands me sweet release divorce papers.
Tootles