How you know you’re spending too much time at work (and that you’re a grumpy bastard)

1. No matter where you pee, you brace for the spray of the automatically flushing toilet. When it doesn’t come and you realize you must flush manually, you actually have a momentary lapse on how.

2. You have problems reclining on the couch because your body is used to sitting at a 90-degree angle.

3. You change channels on your TV remote then try to hit the “save” button.

4. You wear a skirt, blouse and heels…for a dump run.

5. When your coworker walks by and catches you bouncing in your chair while doing butt crunches, she gives you a look and you keep right on scrunchin’. You might even find yourself thinking, “Hah! My butt could kick your butt’s butt.” If you do find yourself thinking that, you hope you didn’t say it aloud.

6. You answer your home phone, “Hi, this is Mrs. Mullet. How can I help you?”

7. You can’t drive by billboards without playing “name that font” and guessing whether or not the graphic is a stock photo. Even if you’re right, your husband really doesn’t care if it’s GillSans or Futura Condensed. He’d rather you played the game “When are we going to get busy.”

8. When you email the grocery list to your husband, you write, “Please reply so I know you’ve received this communication.”

9. You hear Raffi’s song “Mama’s takin’ us to the zoo tomorrow” and change the words to “Mama’s not takin’ us to the zoo tomorrow 'cause she works all day” and you laugh manically and sing “all daaay-hay hay…she works all daaay-hay hay” and think about making your own damn kids’ album that’s a more accurate portrayal of the lives of working mothers. Fricken Raffi bastard.

10. Space aliens leave signs on your lawn that read, “We’ve been trying to make contact for three months. Where the fuck have you been?”

And now, on a cheerier note, Junior reached into his Indiana Jones hat and pulled out the name of the sandbox winner (I would have taken an evidentiary picture but after the chopalicious-meets-fat-cat montage I needed a break).

Dun dun dun…the winner is...Anonymous.

Yep. Anonymous. Whoever you are, I hope you enjoy your new toy in the privacy of your undisclosed town in your mysterious backyard with your unnamed children.

(If I could post this anonymously, I'd say that I secretly hoped the winner would have been a fellow blogger. But I, um, can't say that.)

Pink flamingo lady ain't such a bird after all

I finally weeded through the presents Junior amassed at his party (someone likened it to a wedding reception) and found a CD Charles' mother, Joyce, had given him.

It's called Raffi, Singable Songs for the Very Young. It's beautiful and happy and, to be quite honest, I can't believe it's actually from Joyce because everything she's given us so far has been plastic, loud, and annoying. I mean, this is a woman whose entire backyard is decorated with pink flamingos and blinking lights, year round. She wears holiday themed earrings and sweaters and socks.

Anyway, the song "I Wonder if I'm Growing" is a real tear jerker if you're:

a) hungover and trying to cure that with a glass of wine

b) hormonal

c) reflecting on the fact that your baby boy is now one year and one week old and has learned how to give the wettest, drooliest kisses ever.

I can't believe what a fricken sap I've become. Seriously, I might as well start buying all pink clothing and carrying hand-sewn handkerchiefs and spritzing myself with rose water on rainy street corners while humming Carly Simon songs.

For fuck's sake.