Manic Mode on Monday
It snowed until the wee hours and we got another lovely foot of snow. Oh…yay. Now everything’s backed up—the husband left at 8:15 instead of 7:00, the Tall Kid goes at 9:30 instead of 7:30 and the Short Kid at 10:30 instead of 8:30. But then I still have to pick them up at 2:20 and 3:15, so I get to live the condensed version of Manic Monday.
:gaah:
Three days until Christmas and Wednesday (during the day) will be a wash, thanks to Mother Nature. Yeah, I’ll be the Sudafed Zombie wandering Walmart at midnight tonight.
The good news—my youngest sister (who’s 13, like the Tall Kid) has no school today or tomorrow, so I will be shamelessly taking advantage of her mad wrapping skills. :nod:
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I love you guys get a foot of snow…and get a two hour delay. In Albuquerque, we get a foot of snow…and school’s cancelled for three days.
Yes, we’re wusses. Wanna make somethin’ of it? :cowboy:
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School has been out here since Thursday. No snow. Just Christmas break. Wanna babysit for me? Two girls. Almost 8 and 9. Love to dust. And bicker. And play Food Network. And bicker over who HAS to be Paula Deen and who GETS to be Rachel Ray. Want em? I’ll send em right up.
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One question, Annmarie…do the girls just watch Food Network and bicker? Or do they actually COOK?
Somebody else cooking would be totally worth the bickering, sez me. :nod:
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They PLAY at cooking. And not just cooking, making a TV show ABOUT cooking. “Well Paula, did you forget the EVOO AGAIN?” or “Paula, EEOO is in the dictionary because of ME. What did you get in the dictionary? Nothing? Thought so.”
Cooking for real? No. Not even.
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I love wrapping presents. And I’m neat and don’t waste paper. And oh my, I’m free this week!
(Good luck tonight!)
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We might have snagged a snow day if some other, more liquid, form of precipitation had mixed in, but just snow…eh.
I only know who Rachel Ray is because Angie talks about her.
And I HATE wrapping. Between that and leaving it until the last possible second, you can tell when a gift is from me because it appears to have been wrapped by a drunken one-armed monkey.
They announced on the radio they were having a fundraiser at one of the clubs—have your gifts wrapped by topless dancers—and I thought about it. It’s not like I haven’t seen breasts before, and all my stuff would be wrapped.
Then I was wondering how many women who heard that ad will be pissed when their husbands who normally give them messily wrapped gifts give them perfectly-wrapped presents this year.
Oh, and my sister had a migraine today, so no free sibling labor. She’ll have to work twice as hard tomorrow.