My wine cooler growled at me this morning. GROWLED! Yep, that's what I said. It literally growled. That could only mean one of two things; I need to stop pulling so much wine out of it so it will stop growling "FEED ME" or it is sucking mass quantities of electricity and just sort of burping it out. I'm hoping it is the second reason because my mom, stepdad & a few assorted others are coming for Christmas and I plan on getting through the ordeal in a mild alcoholic haze.
Why is it that my son thinks he can talk about anything with JR and I at the dinner table? For some reason he thinks that I want to hear about his latest sexual escapades, his shaving needs (his face you pervs. Please God I don't want to even know or imagine any other places. Ewwww..) now that he has a girlfriend, and his speed or lack there of. Isn't there a law or something? While I find it is nice that he feels like he can be so open with me and his dad do I really need to know about his nether regions? Didn't I have to deal with those 20 odd years ago?
I made what I thought was a wonderful corn pudding for dinner last night. I gave it 2 thumbs up, JR gave it 1 thumb up & 1 thumb down and The Boy gave it 2 thumbs down. Since, his vote doesn't count because he eats, lives and messes up my house for free and he only like corn on the cob I'm calling the pudding a success. Tonight said corn pudding and the leftover risotto are going to be transformed into corn chowder thus making it go farther and pissing The Boy off. 2 thumbs down my a**.
The Boy tried to kill us last night. He lit a fire in the fireplace (fireplace in Phoenix, go figure) then closed the damper when he went to bed. In his defense he thought the fire was out all the way.
Lesson one: carbon monoxide detectors are a good thing.
Lesson two: insomnia (I was up at 2:30 am) is not always a bad thing.
Lesson three: tell The Boy that our life insurance will not pay all of our debts (true or not, I don't want him getting any ideas).
I thought I would be happy with anything I got for Christmas from JR this year but I just paid bills online and saw where JR spent money on his Christmas shopping spree. I didn't see an entry for Michael's or any other art supply store which means no new easel for me. Damn it!! He best not have gotten me another meat thermometer. I thought he learned that lesson the hard way back in 1986.
This random thoughts blog bling is courtesy of Keely over at The Un-Mom, superhero extraordinaire.