Potty training, pee fetishes, and other things you don’t want to read about.
I was like, “HA! BOOBS!” and my kid was like, “Huh? What? Where?” and I pointed out the sticker and he was like, “That’s a face,” and I was like, “Yep, definitely not hitting puberty yet.”
I wasn’t exactly going for beautiful or whimsical, I was actually just lashing out at my husband but sometimes that’s how the magic works.
The toilet is a metaphor for my life right now, if you leave out the implied negativity that comes with toilet metaphors.
I hope she gets better before I leave for yet another trip because she’s probably gonna die since there’s no way anyone else is going to do this shit.
If I don’t want stuff for Mothers’ Day, what do I want?
I want to be acknowledged for the things I do as mother, and for that one day don’t want to do any of those things. I want a quiet day to reflect on my journey.
Guest starring in someone’s kitchen is like being an Unicorn. I get to play with new tools and sample new dishes without having to deal with the marital disaster I leave in my wake. Not that I would know.
A woman noticed the cat in my shopping cart and said, “Oh those cats really shed,” and I was like, “It’s not problem, I always pick up a few of these when I go to the store. I got the brown tabby thing down.”
Then I picked up eight labrador retrievers in varying colors and headed home while trying to figure out the logistics of walking all these fucking dogs.
The Poulet Rouge entertainment complex is a hit! As much as my husband likes to complain about my hare brained ideas, he doesn’t at all mind talking to all the beautiful women who stroll by with their kids and dogs and gush about how much they love our chickens. I started off with this little […]
If I lived within an HOA, absolutely none of my improvements would have been approved. Not the paint, not the coop, not the library, not the art, not the murals, not the animals, nothing.