About me: I'm a 40-something mother to a pickle party of a family. My husband Chuck, our tween Junior, our 6-year-old Everett, our toddler Cam, and I live in a town in Connecticut I affectionately call Mulletville Lite (aka my childhood hometown). My friends call me Nutjob, and they're right. In my husband's spare time he dresses up as a Viking and chases ghosts (and I'm the nutjob?). I'm a freelance graphic designer and writer.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Random Tuesday thoughts on the sly
I told Chuck I'm working on a freelance project right now. Except I'm blogging. Mwaahahaha.
Our house was built in 1020 BC. Honest. They didn't have that pink insulation back then, so some of our rooms are fr-fr-freezing. Our bedroom is one those rooms. It's also Diddly's bedroom for the time being, so I've been cranking the heat.
Guess who's bedroom isn't freezing? Junior's. He's melting. The poor kid asked if he could sleep with frozen corn under his pillow. I wasn't sure what to say. I mean, I guess it's ok if he sleeps with vegetables, but what if this is how fetishes start? What if Junior gets hooked on niblets? What if he brings some chick back to his dorm room and she finds frozen peas in his bed and spinach in his sheets and he never gets laid again?
You just never know.
My mother is visiting. Thanks to another snowstorm, she'll be stranded with us for a few days. I love my mother. Honest. But she does weird things with my sponge. She thinks I keep lubricant in my refrigerator. She thought my house was haunted.
In all fairness, I can understand why.
One of the reasons I love having a blog is that I get to play the "Where was I at this time in [insert year]?" I'd completely forgotten that two years ago I was channeling my inner rebel by building a snowslut. One year ago I became a redhead.
This year? I'm about to buy Pajama Jeans.
Shit, here comes Chuck. For more randomness, visit the UnMom. She saw Elvis at her blog conference. Honest.