Chapsticks don't have teeth...

Oh Hildi dear! I can't believe you are still pitching that story about the chapstick. I suppose you will tell that lie til the day you die. Face facts- you bit me on the ass. I had the teeth marks to prove it!! I can't believe you're still perpetuating that story about poking me. I think you've blocked the truth from your mind. Like a serial killer who blacks out and comes to with blood on his hands and no idea how it got there!

And frankly, I don't remember the tooth-paste incident. Therefore, it never happened. And if it did...well...you must've deserved it. You were kind of a brat.

But I'm totally here for you with your addiction. I understand the lure of the printed word. Those books entice with their glossy covers and come hither synopses. Their pull is strong! And you think a page or two will suffice, but two hours later you come up for air only to find that the meatloaf is burned, your youngest has fallen asleep on the potty (waiting for you to wipe their bum) and your husband is due home any minute!! True story. But there is help girl. I'm a survivor. I limit my reading time to after I've crawled into bed. Or anytime I'm forced to wait in public (doctors office, DMV, killing time before picking up a kid). Or I'm done with all daily chores and manage to squeeze out a few minutes for myself. Which happens so infrequently I probably didn't even need to mention it.

Now, if I could just get a handle on my internet addiction...facebook, bejewelled, blogging, email....so much to do, so little time.

trading one for the other,
♥Gert

Addiction!

Hello. My name is Hildi and I'm an addict. I have been an addict for about six years now. It has progressively taken over my life. I have begun to put myself in danger by scoring at such places as the "downtown" library and Half Priced Books! Of course I go in disguise so that no one will recognize me, but I know I am courting scandal should this happen. As of today I have gone through eight books in two weeks, not including Desperation, by Stephen King.
The laundry needs folding, the kitchen needs mopping and really I could use a little fresh air. So, followers and family and Gert, I shall make you a promise. From this moment on; I will not read more than half a book a day[no more than 200 pages], I will take care of my responsibilities first, and I will put said book down at four o'clock every day. My new motto is; Live and love outside the pages!
You know, I really do think I have a slightly addictive personality. Years ago it was an illegal substance, then it was spirits{the liquid kind}, going out, and now reading. Why, oh why, can't it be something productive like cleaning or working? Heck I'd even take exercising. Or not! Ah well, such is life. No I'm not going to mention the smokes, Gert. They don't interfere at all with my reading. I mean life.
By the way. If you tell naughty things on me I will be forced to return the favor. Don't forget the time you told our parents I bit you on the butt and all I really did was poke you with my chap-stick! Or how about the time you punched me really hard in the tummy while we were brushing our teeth, and I nearly choked on tooth-paste! Oh yes sister-dear, I will spill it all. Mooohaha!


Love and getting clean, HIldi!

Hildi!!! Get your nose out of that book and blog already!

Hildi,

I'm seriously thinking of disowning you. I know I bought you books for your birthday, but you need to put down the book slowly and back away and nobody gets hurt!! I mean it. For serious. Remember that time you threw a porcelain hair brush at me and I ducked and it left a nick in the wall? Or what about the time you spit your grape bubble gum in the back of my hair and mom had to cut it out? And I already had a ridiculous haircut to begin with? I could go on, you know. But I'll stop here...but only if you start blogging again. Don't make me tell people where the bodies are buried. And I know that you know that I know that...oh dear, I lost track. Anyway, just freakin blog. Or I'm not coming to visit you ever again. Or bringing you books. Or pistachios.

I mean, we have followers!! You owe them something. If you won't do it for me...do it for them. For the love of Bob, Hildi! Have a heart! We also have an award to pick up at Heather's place. So put down the book, brush your hair, and kick the kids off the computer. Pull yourself together girl and write an acceptance speech.

your loving but desperate sister,
♥Gert

PS~ If you don't blog back I'm going to tell people that you're in rehab. It won't be true of course (they don't make rehab for book addicts, duh) but people will believe me. And then you'll be sorry.

Because I said so...that's why...

Okay, so I did it. I uttered those words that I'd promised myself absolutely eons ago when I was young that I would never ever ever say. Because really? It's not a reason. It's a justification. It's an abuse of power. It's just wrong. And frustrating if you're on the receiving end. And up to this point in my parenting career, I have rarely ever fallen back on this once famous stand-by.

So picture me the other night walking into my kitchen to start preparing dinner (because heaven forbid anyone else do it) and I notice that the sink is full of dishes. So call me OCD, call me weird, whatever, I cannot cook in a kitchen where there are already dirty dishes hiding the sink. So I called for Jethro to come unload the dishwasher so that I could reload before I started cooking. I also realize that the venison steaks I removed from the freezer have not thawed out. Not. one. bit.

I take them in hand to Larry, who's sitting in his office.

Me: These steaks are rock hard!! They didn't thaw out at all. They've been out all day!! What does this say about the temperature in this house??

Larry: (takes the wrapped bundle of steaks from my outstretched hand) um. Well this corners a little squishy.

Me: oh well lovely. I'll just cut off that corner and serve it to you. Because that's going to feed us all!

Jethro: maybe someone should just go get a pizza.

Me: I told you I have no money. (I may or may not have shrieked this)

Jethro: okay, calm down. (backing away with his hands out as though I'm a panther about to pounce)

Me: (calmer) No. You don't understand. Usually when I say I have no money, I mean I just don't want to spend what I have. This time I literally have no money. So I have to cook. I guess I'll try defrosting them in the microwave.

So I throw the package in the microwave and hit defrost. It's then that I notice that the bottom cabinet doors are half shut. I go to try and shut them. No deal. The pots, pans, roasters, cake pans and cookie sheets are wedged in there in such a way that the cabinet doors cannot shut. Why am I the only one who finds this unacceptable? When Larry or Jethro put dishes away they just shove them in and hope the door shuts. As I'm already slightly pissy (definitely pms-ing) this just really chaps my hide. So I say to Jethro~

Me: For the love of Bob!! Could you not at least put the dishes away so the cabinet closes?

Jethro: No. Because some moron dug out the big roaster which he then did not even use and now nothing fits in there right.

Me: Um so maybe you could rearrange things? (Is this rocket science? Because it seems obvious to me!)

Jethro: Right now?! While you're trying to cook?

Me: Yes! It's tipping my scales towards crazy and I really want it resolved.

Jethro: Seriously? Right now you want me to drag out all the pans, make a huge mess and rearrange them?

Me: (sighing inwardly) No. Oh hell no! Why would I ask you or your father to correct anything you've done just to suit me? What am I thinking?

Jethro: I just don't see why it's such a big deal and has to be done right now.

Me: (thinking to myself Because it's important to me But then I open my mouth and out they come, those dreaded words...) Because I said so, that's why

To set the record straight...Jethro did not then instantly snap to attention and do what I'd ask. He gave me the "you've finally lost it look" and I told him to just go, do whatever it was he'd been doing. Then I sat on the floor and rearranged my cabinet. Then I shut the cabinet doors. And yes, I felt better. Oh, and the steaks defrosted enough to cook and dinner was delish.

Really?! Is it just me?
♥Gert