Caution: If you are looking for a happy blog, do not read any further......

I love being told that I do nothing. I love it like I love bamboo skewers jammed under my fingernails. I love being told that I should be doing more than I already am, because "someone" has the idea that keeping 4 kids entertained, alive, and taken on errands-which drives me crazy because I always end up taking 8 times longer than usual & end up screaming threats on their lives at them half way through the store-allows me plenty of time to keep the house spotless, when I'm out numbered 5 to 1. Yeah, I said it. (And the biggest of the 5 is one of the biggest mess making contributors to a certain room in the house.) That somehow dinner just appears magically on the table every night, since clearly I'm not doing it. The laundry always washes itself, and no kids ever knock the piles over repeatedly while said clothes are getting folded. I love when such sweet words are said to me, I LOVE IT. Oh, wait.......no, I don't.

I'm not a violent person for the most part, but sometimes I wish that "people" would think before "they" said things. I'm tired of hearing things come out that "weren't meant like that", because you might get a steel toe encrusted foot to your face, that I will tell you later was "meant to be a playful tap. Why are you getting so mad?" Really. Freaking laws telling me that Domestic Battery is a bad thing, be damned. Let me tell you that you don't do enough, when you are already always exhausted, and see what your reaction is. Thank you very much.

And in the above, when I mention "someone", "people", or "they"- I really mean Alan.

 He has already done the "don't get mad, I didn't mean it like that, It's just that...." apology.

Doesn't sound like an apology, right? Like I say, If you don't mean it-don't say it. Otherwise you are just lying, and Jesus hates liars. They make him cry. It says so in the bible. And you don't want that on your back now do you?

See........he's crying. Feel better about yourself? Selfish.

Sorry for the angry rant. I'm typing this, waiting for him to go to sleep so I can go to bed not completely irate. In his mind we are all good-I wish I was there, dancing and having fun in "Alanland". Must be nice, but I'm not, because I'm mad and not okay. I will be soon when I go in and watch Wizards of Waverly Place and just calm down a bit. Don't judge me. Nobody lifts the spirits like Disney. Plus he lost the remote when he "cleaned" the room , and that's what it's stuck on. I will be back to normal by church time. Where I will be sitting, smiling with the knowledge that I didn't make Jesus cry-unlike some other "person".

Does anbody out there know the cure for Foot-In-Mouth-Disease? Not to be confused with I'm-A-Big-Jerk-Who-says-whatever-I-Feel-Like. Close, I know but they are like HIV and AIDS. Different diseases, but one is a precursor to the next. I would pay dearly for some tonic, herbs, or suppositories that could fix it. If not, how about a long tube sock full of quarters? You know where to reach me.