Rescue Me

Ethan acquired some Pokemon cards today after his adventure to one of many comic book stores. He is beyond frustrated by trying to explain this "game" to me so that we can play. I would be easier off translating the Chinese language than learning the object of this "game." I'd rather be held hostage and forced to become a Democrat than continue with this torture. Did I mention that I've been up since 2:15 AM for Black Friday? Jake just came by and asked to do something with Ethan. I promise it had nothing to do with the $50 bucks I slipped him. Ethan declined because we were playing Pokemon....um, I have a handful of cards that I haven't touched since they were given to me. So apparently this is what you call playing Pokemon??? Maybe it's not so bad since I was able to look at porn on Huck's iPad the whole time. Won't he be surprised when he gets the bill.

The Night Before Black Friday

I layed on the bed tonight discussing Christmas with Ethan. I'd memorized all of the Black Friday ads for weeks since they were released online weeks ago. But it's total tradition for my fabulous sister-in-law and I to trapse through each one after Thanksgiving dinner before dessert(s). I can't justify the pants being unbuttoned while I lick the advertisements of my favorite stores so she won't take them, instead I wear overalls and she wears elastic waisted pants. After circling, earmarking, and hiding the ads, I found myself laying on the bed having as much excitement about Christmas as, well, a kid on Christmas. I asked E what he wanted and after a long thoughtful pause he rolled over in all seriousness and said, "I don't know. There's so much cool stuff." I'm laying there staring at him, waiting for him to name SOMETHING, DAMNIT, ANYTHING!!! BECAUSE MOM ISN'T GETTING UP AT 2:15 FOR MY HEALTH. So I approached it from another angle, "What are you going to ask Santa to bring you." I had him trapped. What I got was, "Santa knows that I'll like any of that cool stuff." So a carton of unfiltered Camels and a bottle of Jack it is. It's going to be a great Christmas for one of us.

Priorities

E: What time is Jake's game tomorrow?

Me:  The same time as yours.

E: The EXACT same time, like 6 o'clock?

Me:  Uh huh, 6 on the dot.

E: Can you call my coach and tell him I am not going to be there?

Me: Why aren't you going to be there? Your team needs you, it's your last game.

E: Who's going to be the bat boy at Jake's game if I'm not there?

Me: I'm sure they'll manage.

E: (thinking) Mom, will you call Jake's coach and tell him I can't come because it's my last game?

Me: I am sure he will understand.

Revenge

You have destroyed the pile of clothes that I have so neatly folded and stacked on your bed by running and jumping into the middle of the stacks as though it's a big pile of leaves.  Then you wad them up and SHOVE them in your drawers when I give you the evil eye.  It's ok, REALLY, just don't be surprised when I show up at school with your jock strap on my head.

November Playlist