Friday Fragments

Legit either work hard or you might as well quit
That's the word,because you know
U can't touch this
U can't touch this

Break it down
Stop. . . De-Klutter time

I was super early to pick up Jacek on Tuesday.  His teacher is notorious for letting class run over so I went and looked through some books at a book sale that was going on in the same building.  I kept my ears peeled for squealing 3 year old boys to run by the doorway but I never heard anything.  I was starting to get frustrated because it was getting late.  I walked out of the room to find my little man standing with his back to me staring at the entrance we normally come through.  My heart sank.  I so hated being "that Mom" who has to explain to her crying last to be picked up child why she couldn't manage to get her sorry butt there on time.  I called his name and he turned.  The look of relief on his face about killed me.  He seemed to be rather unaffected by my tardiness and happily hugged me.  The second we pulled out of the parking lot though I got a talkin to.  "You're not there to look at books Mommy, you're there to get me...so have more patience and wait for me, ok?", he said matter-of-factly.  

"sorry honey", was all I could mange between trying not to laugh or cry.

 

Last year while the boys and I were at our library for story time we met a few Mommies and other kids.  We've had several playgroups with them since.  I got an invitation to a Pleasure Party from one of them.  I gotta be honest here, I feel really conflicted about it.  I like her and I think it would be MAD FUN but it feels weird.  I mean, in 10 years when our kids are in school together and she finds something to HATE on me about...I don't want her sharing my pleasure toy selection with other people to make me cry.  I mean this could totally turn into a blackmail tool selection party.  What if I wanted to run for a public office in the town hall?  I can imagine the Anti Kerri Klutter posters with the pink magic bunny pointing at my face which has a big  

over it.

How horribly tragic.

 Maybe I'll just stay home and read this and be safe.

No?

I apologized to the dentist on Thursday.  I said "I'm sorry but I hate dentists."  Probably not the best way to initiate conversation with a man that is about to stick rather long and sharp objects into my mouth.  "What if I told you I wasn't a dentist would you let me put this scraper in your mouth?"he asked.   I hesitated in answering because actually, yeah I do think that a random stranger might NOT BE AS BAD AS SOMEONE WHO I KNOW PULLS TEETH OUT FOR A LIVING.  So, rather then look like a Coo-Coo bird, I smiled and chuckled through my anxiety.  Turns out I get to go back to see him in April to complete my initiation. I'm excited though, he told me I'd get a souvenir to take home.  I wonder what it's going to be?  (Smuckin smooth talker almost fooled me, he's gonna pull out my smuckin tooth isn't he?)