Eight things you'll wish I had kept to myself

Everyone is doing that number thing where they list off things you may not know about them. My friend Jennay of What I Really Meant to Say decided to do her own thing where she listed things that you may NOT WANT to know. Her list of 7 things was fucking awesome so I'm going to see if I can top it. My number is 8:

1. I like to pop pimples. There's some satisfaction in getting the hard white thingy out or pushing out the puss until it bleeds. I'll pop mine and I like to find them on Dickhead's back. Sometimes he may not really even have one, but I'll try to pop it anyway just to hear him cry out like a pussy.
2. I have a fake toenail. The real one was ripped out by a rowdy little fucking kid when he barreled through a store door, which I was entering. My beautiful pedicure was on display with gorgeous new sandals. My big toe was caught by the bottom of the door, ripping the nail and nail bed free of my toe. So now I have a fake one that I have to get filled and replaced just like fake fingernails. 
3. I do Kegels every other day. Doing the exercise turns me on. I'm pretty sure my vajayjay muscles are strong enough to pick up a bowling ball. 
4. Taking a shit is an event for me. I hole up in the bathroom with a book, iPad or my phone. Sometimes I text updates to friends on how it's going...or not going. A particularly raunchy shit fills me with pride and I like to let my closest friends know. 
5. I got my first glimpse of porn at a slumber party in 2nd grade. My friend proudly showed us what she caught her older brother watching. It was pretty disgusting. I'm fairly certain that was the first time I saw Ron Jeremy and afterward I thought all men were hung like a donkey.
6. When I make a sandwich the mustard has to be on one slice of the bread and the mayo on the other slice. My cheese has to be on the same side as the mayo. If you make me a sandwich where the mustard is touching the cheese then I won't eat it. 
7. I really enjoy picking my nose. I always have and always will. I have never eaten a booger though. If I don't have a tissue to wipe it on then I'll roll it up and flick it. 
8. I seriously heart REO Speedwagon and Wilson Phillips. Go ahead and judge me. I don't care. 

Now you know 8 utterly un-fascinating things about me. Feel free to share your weird shit, too.

Parent of the Year Award...stomp it out!

Little Shit, Baby Shit and I were on the floor where I was reading a book to them. Apparently Baby Shit found the book boring because she got up and started marching around, playing with dolls and doing some more marching. I was focused on reading the book, and the racket she made became that droning noise in the background that parents associate with another child talking but block it out.

Dickhead came out of the kitchen and asked if I was listening to what Baby Shit was saying. Of course not, but I tuned in at that. The droning noise became.... "Sonovabitch! *stomping feet as Baby Shit marched* ...SonnnnovaBITCH! ...Sonovabiiittch!" *stomp stomp*

Dickhead and I stared at one another with our eyes bugging out of our heads. Of course Nana walked in on the loudest "SONOVABITCH!"

I covered my face with the book and tried to smother my giggles. Sonovabiiittch!" *stomp stomp*

Little Shit kept trying to pull the book down and finally asked me if I was laughing because the book was funny. That threw me into a giggling fit.

"Sonovabiiittch!" *stomp stomp*

Dickhead finally distracted Baby Shit and the Sonovabiiittch!" *stomp stomp* train ended. When I lowered the book and uncovered my face Nana was glaring at me. WTF? Like I'm the only one that says 'Son of a bitch!' in our household.

Nana: "Well, she sure does have some colorful language. Just the other day I said 'shit' and who do you think repeated it?" Another glare.

Me: "Well, shit, if you stopped cussing all the damn time maybe my girls wouldn't have the vocabulary of a fucking sailor."

Baby Shit: "SHIT!" Of course that earned me another glare.

In related news, I've already opened my first wine bottle of the day.

Let's fucking go!

I was sitting on the shitter after sneaking in the garage after work, minding my own business and trying to DO my business when I heard a shocked Tween yell "You can't say that!" to Little Shit who immediately burst into tears complete with uncontrollable sobbing. Then I heard the Tween trying to shush her only for the volume of sobbing to increase to an uncomfortable level - like a goddamned siren. Fuck me. My peaceful, toilet clogging shit needed to be put on hold. Like a responsible mom I pinched the loaf and headed into the living room to determine what the problem was.

All hell was breaking loose when I interrupted. After shutting everyone up I asked the Tween what the problem was. "SHE said a VERY VERY bad word!" The Tween accused and crossed her arms smugly waiting for me to flip my shit. I looked at Little Shit who was glaring daggers at her older sister and looking like she wanted to rip her head off and crap down her throat. Whoa! My toddler looked E-V-I-L. After some coaxing Little Shit finally told me what went down.

"Tween said we were going outside to play on the swing set but she wouldn't go outside because she was playing her iPad. I kept asking really nice, mommy. I asked really nice." Cue the big eyes tearing up from Little Shit and an exasperated sigh from the Tween. "So I told her we needed to go and tried to grab her iPad and she pushed me so I grabbed her and said..." at this pout Little Shit juts her chin out and stands her ground like zero fucks are given "let's fucking go!" At the look on my face Little Shit's zero fucks attitude falters..."is that bad mommy? I heard you tell daddy that earlier."

I'm in my room now with a bottle of wine and a straw, coping with the circus I live.

I kissed a...boy?..and I liked it

The Tween was searching her bag for Chapstick while we drove to meet her dad. As she applied it she looked at me and said, "I don't think guys should put Chapstick on in public. It's really disturbing. They need to do that in private."

This surprised me so I asked why she had a problem with Chapstick and guys. It's not like we were talking about guys wearing lip gloss or lipstick. "Well this one guy at daddy's church applies his Chapstick during service and he's all like <mimics a loose woman trying to be sexy by applying lipstick>."

I busted out laughing and told her that wasn't fair to all guys that one man's technique grossed her out. The Tween rolled her eyes at me because I obviously didn't get it.

When we met up with my ex-husband and were discussing upcoming events for the Tween, she interrupted us and asked, "Daddy, don't you think guys shouldn't apply Chapstick in public?" I started laughing at his perplexed look and gave a brief explanation.

Then, he looked at the Tween and said, "If a man wearing Chapstick bothers you then I better not tell you what I did last night while playing a game with a group of [church] friends." Of course the Tween perked up at this and, knowing my bible thumping ex and his hypocritical tendencies, my interest was also piqued.

My ex-husband proceeds to tell our daughter that a challenge in the game was for him to kiss someone else playing, but not his spouse. (What the hell kind of game were they playing??) Rather than kissing one of the other women playing and upsetting his own wife, he decided to kiss one of the guys. The Tweens eyes were bugging out of her head..."OMG DADDY! You kissed a GUY?!?"

He confirmed he did and then explained he kissed the guy's neck...near his ear. What. the. fuck? Did he really think that was better than a quick peck on the lips or the cheek?? A kiss on the neck is pretty intimate. Then the ex-hole floored the Tween with, "In hindsight I should have taken the point deduction rather than do the kiss."

It was obvious this disturbed the Tween because she pulled me to the side and whispered furiously to me. As we headed back to the ex-hole I pulled some lip gloss out of my purse and asked if his boyfriend prefers cherry or mint flavor. The Tween thought it was funny....the ex not so much.

Boo you!

After tucking Baby Shit into bed, Little Shit, the Tween and I went to "Boo" 2 houses in the neighborhood.  

In case you don't know what it means to "Boo" someone, during the month of October you sneak up to a house and leave a bag of treats on the doorstep then ring the doorbell and run like hell.  

With my college football team winning today you could say I've done a little (lot) celebrating (drinking) so I decided to keep to the shadows and let the kids do the tricking. The people in the 1st house we hit must have been anticipating a booing (or had been ding-dong-ditched a lot) because the Tween and Little Shit barely cleared the reach of the porch light when the front door was thrown open and the dad and 2 kids came barreling outside. The dad looked around for a few minutes until the kids noticed the bag of treats. As soon as the front door shut the Tween and Little Shit ran across the front yard IN THE LIGHT and the dad threw the door back open, yelling "caught ya little bastards!" My kids froze. Absolutely froze. I stayed back (sipping my beer), and listened as the Tween thought fast on her feet and responded to his question of whether or not they were the culprits. She gave a pretty convincing explanation of why her and Little Shit happened to be there right at that same moment. And then....Little Shit started giggling. Then it was full blown laughter. She looked at the neighbor and blew their cover with "Tween is just kidding! It was us!!!" More giggles from Little Shit as Tween yelled at her that she couldn't say that. I took another sip of beer and waited until the girls joined me. 

 As we headed to the next house, both girls talking excitedly about how they just got busted, I heard my phone beep and checked my text messages..."Did that scare the kids or what? I thought [Tween] was going to crap herself when she was busted for lying." Ah yes, it's so much fun when the neighbors play along.

Little Shit's swim lesson

Little Shit started swim lessons this week - 2 mornings per week. I wasn't able to go today since I had a conflict with work meetings so Nana took her. Apparently Little Shit was beside herself upset when the instructor was aggressive with her and pulled her into the water. I got a text message play-by-play from Nana who watched from the "parent's room." Once the lesson ended and they were in the car, Nana asked Little Shit how she liked swim lessons. Little Shit replied that she hated it. When Nana asked her why she hated it Little Shit replied, "That crazy bitch pulled me under water and scared the crap out of me, Nana." According to Nana that response startled her and made her jump a curb in her Cadillac. Trying to not flip out over Little Shit's language, Nana asked her why she would say such a thing. Little Shit promptly replied with, "that's what mommy would have said about that crazy bitch!"

....I'm in time out this evening.

There's no rationalizing with crazy

A coworker hired after me at my previous employer informed our mutual boss that his wife, who was mentally unstable, wanted a divorce because she thought we were having an affair. HELL NO! This dude is one of those that immediately sets off the “creep” flags on a woman’s radar and makes your skin crawl. He asked our boss to inform me that his wife was unstable and may reach out to me, that she had done this at his previous employer and that it caused problems with his coworkers. My boss told me to be aware of my surroundings at all times because "the woman is unstable and there is no telling what she could do."

I then was harassed on a daily basis. I got HR involved. Finally my employer changed my work extension, asked my coworker to tell his wife to stop coming inside the building after she came down and sat outside my office one day in an attempt to intimidate me - we worked at opposite sides of the building. And she still came into the building but my employer never kicked her out! I changed my work habits and started secluding myself in my office. I was stressed. Certified crazy is scary…you don’t mess with that shit. There’s no rationalizing with crazy!

Dickhead was very supportive of what I was dealing with. He told me she was blinded by my beauty and boobs when she saw me and latched onto me as a threat in her unstable mind. He thought it was rather funny at first until the harassment continued to get worse.

It was a blessing when I got my new job. Then my fucking boss blasted an email out to everyone and told them I had given my notice so congratulate me on my new position...and she said where I was going!

However, all has been quiet since I left there a month ago. Until this past week. I answered my work phone and the crazy twit said "this is so and so's wife. I'm calling because he told me you two are having an affair." I told her to stop right there, that I have never slept with her husband and I'm happily married. I told her to never call me again. She said "this is the first time I've EVER called you." So I called bullshit and told her we had to change my extension at my last employer because of her repeated calls. She said "as a woman, I need to ask how you can do this....is it true?" I told her as a woman I wouldn't look twice at her husband and she needs to let her obsession go. I LEFT my last job to get away from this crazy situation that was forced on me and she has no right to harass me. She said "if you aren't sleeping with him then how did you know about this situation." I was like "Look, Crazy, obviously you have a screw or two loose. Your husband told OUR boss about it, who then informed me that I had a crazy psycho on my hands. Since then you've proved it time and again. Don't ever contact me again. I'm filing a police report for harassment," and I hung up. Then I immediately went to HR and filled them in on the situation. The IT department pulled the number from our phone system—in less than 24 hours she had called my new place of work 3 times before actually talking with me—and they blocked it so Crazy can't call again from that number. I filed the police report. I also called my old boss and informed her about what had happened and about the police report.

I’m now packing mace and ready to show Crazy what crazy really is…