I HAVE TITS!!!!
APPARENTLY Mr.Man has FORGOTTEN there are boobies on my chest and they need adequate room to fit into a shirt cause I got two nice shirts for Christmas that won't button up over my mammaries!
They fit great near the waist, but it ain't happening up toward the twin peaks. I could smash them flat or hide them in my arm pits (but as you've read about before,I just broke up that relationship and I don't care for it to get started again,ok?)
So I'm a little disappointed that the shirts didn't fit and I'm going to have to return them. I HATE SHOPPING and I HATE RETURNING THINGS!
Ok...I've ranted and I feel better. Mr.Man did get me something at least and it's the thought that counts. I just think that if he were to touch the twins more often, he wouldn't forget about them. So there.
My mother's visit was tolerable. I drank like a rock star while the porn star hung out up in Little Beatle's room and played X-Box.There was much exchanging of gifts, eating and watching movies.Over all the whole experience was rather nice. I cooked for two days solid and now we have enough leftovers so that I won't have to cook all week.
The kids were all happy with their presents, except for a couple of things my mother bought the girls.(She still thinks they're 8 and 10) but they were good and acted gracious and thanked her. I told them they could wear their things around the house...
One bonus gift I hadn't expected is that now Miss-know-it-all and Veggie Stick both currently view me like this...
Let's just say that my mother is a well organized and controlling entity. She felt the need to be in charge of everything...including my cooking and cleaning abilities.The gifts were rationed out, one at a time...it took FOREVER to open everything. No one was allowed to sit down if there was any mess of any kind...(a drinking glass on the coffee table was a huge No-No...)So the girls got a first hand taste of what I grew up with...
I think they appreciate me more now...
Today they want to go to the mall. I would rather walk through Kroger's on Elderly Hell Day wearing free samples of Geritol and Metamucil but I will be a good mother and take them. Besides...the tightwad Swede in me knows they'll get the best deals today.
Today's word will be "Return"...Every time we go into a store the clerk will ask if we have a return and I will be able to make loud noises while clapping my hands...
That should be sufficient to entertain me while the girls shop.
Little Beatle has practice every morning the rest of the week, so I will be getting up and taking him there. What kind of dictator plans practice on Christmas week? Meh...
I'm still kind of worn out this morning so that's all I've got for ya. Besides, I need to prepare myself emotionally for the visit to the mall this afternoon. I figure if we go between twelve and one we can get home before rush hour traffic hits.
So anyway, with that said, here is my mood for today....
I'M CRUSHING YOUR HEAD! CRUSH! CRUSH!
I think Little Beatle and I will sit and people watch and do some head crushing while the girls shop....I'm really in the mood for head crushing...anyone care to join us?
Milk. Nose. You get the picture.
ReplyDeleteHey I'd like to offer my typical contrarian version of your husbands gift giving gaffe:
He knows quite well that those shirts won't button up over your sweater kittehs...
You do the math from there.
Merry Christmas!
Hey Tammie,
ReplyDeleteMerry Christmas!! Glad to hear everything was at managable levels. I'm with Stew, I'm sure he hadn't forgotten about your tits!
m.
Yeah, kids being around grandparents is a good exercise for kids to appreciate where we come from...
ReplyDeleteBut...what about the DISHWASHER????
ReplyDeleteI could go for a little head-crushing. Or, just a little head. Whatevs. Whee!
I just stumbled on your blog this morning, and boy can I relate to a lot of what you have to say (especially regarding Mr. Man).
ReplyDeleteThanks for alleviating some of my abject boredom at the office ... only four more hours of eye-poking ennui.
I shall be visiting often!
Here's what you do.
ReplyDeleteI have ginormous boobs (I have a lot of other ginormous stuff too so don't get excited)
Nothing fits over my boobs. If you're even slightly crafty you can do this. Sew the button plaquard closed. Get some matching thread and "stitch in the ditch" where there is stitching already. You can't even see it and it gives you the ability to wear a shirt that looks good on your waist while maintaining the beautiful bazzoongas look.
To the Mall? Are you serious?
ReplyDeleteI would, except people do not make way and yield to the Hermit as God intended. They're all going to Hell and don't know it. Yet.
I'll just sit here and crush people on TV, as usual. Still, you've given me other "things" to think about.
I think I'll go to the living room where my hub is sitting playing on the Xbox, and sit across from and CRUSH his head...
ReplyDeleteI got home from work -- mind, he's been here most of the day -- to find that neither he nor his nephew bothered to unload the dishwasher which is packed to the gills from our Christmas Feast.
HOW HARD IS IT?!
So see, Tammie, maybe a dishwasher isn't such a good idea afterall. IOW, I may just let the dirties pile up in the sink to see how high the debris can actually go before one of the Boys decided to do something about it. Or I get carted off Sharpe Hospital
My boobies are a lot bigger than the rest of my torso...so i know the pain of having a shirt fit great everywhere except around the bust. It's disappointing and difficult to find shirts that fit
ReplyDeleteI try not to be a follower or a piggy-backer, but I'm with the fellas on this. Those shirts were on purpose.
ReplyDeleteLet the puppies breath.
Or even breathe
ReplyDeleteAs a fellow Sturdy Girl, I can attest to a) the fact that your husband did it on PURPOSE and b) your need to, uh, not SHOW the mountains and valleys, as it were.
ReplyDeleteBless you, dear, for going to the Mall on the 26th.
I'd rather take a bullet to the kneecap. (A bullet to the head would alleviate the problem...)
There is no one that can kill joy quicker than a compulsive clean freak. Glad you survived mom's visit!
ReplyDelete