The new neighbours are here! The new neighbours are here! I saw the man pull up, and then take a kitchen chair out of his car and let himself into his new house. I was like - that's IT? A chair? You moved just a chair? In a Honda Acura? Who DOES that? Omigod these people are weirdos! And then I realized that, ahem, I'M the one standing on my own couch to stick my nose over the sill of the piano window to spy on him, because it's the only window on that side of the building, and I don't want to gawk out the front window. Who exactly is the whackjob here?
My suspicions were confirmed later when I texted Fashionista about their arrival and her response was, "So are you going to take them over a casserole or a loaf of fresh baked bread or something?"
Oh, right, THAT'S what normal neighbours do.
I may or may not have posted a while ago about how we have a mouse in the house. I can't remember. It really seemed kind of trivial to me - I saw it once, but it doesn't seem to poop anywhere important or eat the last handful of Goldfish crackers or anything. Unlike hubby, who seems to think it's the fourth horseman of the fucking apocalypse, I was pretty content to let it clean up after the toddler and scare the shit out of
him us every once in a while.
Until today, when I was contentedly seated on the throne having a morning pee and heard this weird ticking noise. I looked down and saw a tiny pink nose poking out of a gap in the baseboards, gnawing away on the wood.
"You cocky little fucker!" I exclaimed, and the nose disappeared, like: crap, she saw me.
(Or more likely, Merde! I have been sighted! I must alert zee Resistahnce! Because I totally imagine mice all having this outRAYggggeous Franch accent.)
So now it's all-out war, mouse. My apologies in advance to your extended family, but you should have thought of that before you interrupted my morning constitutional with your arrogant display of teeny cojones.
My MIL apparently thinks I'm opening up my own mess hall. Or something. We have limited drawer space in our tiny kitchen, so since we moved in to this house I have been keeping my cutlery on the counter in mason jars. I don't know, I kind of thought it went with the 50s decor. But apparently this year it became too much for her, because she keeps buying me cutlery caddies to replace the jars.
The first time it was the (used!) plastic cutlery basket out of a dishwasher. Because yeah - THAT says 'classy' way more than canning jars.
This last time she was here she brought a new cutlery caddy, that came with it's own place setting for 4. In case that wasn't enough, she threw in an entire extra box of utensils. That's in addition to my original cutlery, which was complete and matching for 6 people.
When I queried hubby as to the motivation, he said she thought I might want cutlery that matched. But my cutlery DOES match. And I fail to see how giving me more cutlery THAT DOESN'T MATCH is going to help the situation at all.
I swear, it's enough to make me want to drill tiny holes in the end of each and every one of them and hang them from the ceiling.
I don't think I'm ready to start this cleanse tomorrow. I need to detox, before I can detox. I am going to have problems with the lack of caffeination. More than likely, other people are going to have problems with my lack of caffeination too.
I was going to post a Mother's Day thing yesterday about how you other moms should celebrate the things about yourself that aren't necessarily nurturing or maternal, the things that make you YOU that aren't making snacks or kissing booboos. Because those things make you a better parent, too. But then my kid threw things at my head all day and refused to nap and bit me and peed on some comics and screamed a lot, and I didn't feel like a good parent no matter what.
But, yeah, you should celebrate those things.
Never mind, I'll just post it next year.
I was also going to to post something to my own mother, along those same lines, about how much I appreciate her as a FRIEND and how intriguing and entertaining she is because she has so many aspects and interests that aren't directly related to motherhood. Plus because I didn't get her a card. But I felt like murdering instead of writing and she'd never read it anyway because she's on fucking dialup.
I'll just post it next year.
Okay, who thinks the people at MIT have waaaaay too much time on their hands
(I still want one, though. I'd set it up in a corner of the living room and put a sign on it that says NO BOYZ ALOWD)
Aaaannnd on that note, I'm off to my Hut of Solitude. Want to play Random Tuesday Thoughts? Grab the button, make a random post, and link up with Mr. Linky! I had a little talk with him after the issue he had last week with commitment, and I think we're all on the same page. Nevertheless, he's on notice, so he gets one week to shape up or I'm demanding we go to counselling.