Anyway, Easter was pleasantly spent in our itty-bitty little house. We cooked for The Punk, her family, 'Da Baby Daddy's, Daddy, The Hunter, and The Man and I. Not a lot of people, but more than enough for our house. We only have room for 3 at our kitchen table, so those that weren't quick enough to get a seat at the table had to eat standing up or in the living room on TV Trays!
The Baby had hung out with The Punk and I in the kitchen while dinner was still being cooked, and both of us managed to skirt around The Baby, but ended up struggling to stay upright after tripping and stepping on the toys spread out in front of The Baby. I think I blew out my knee on the Rooster! The Punk twisted her ankle on it, The Man just torments me with it, no tripping over it for him, damn it. I did try to borrow the Rooster, just so I could call Shell up, make it crow and hang up the phone as she has done to the majority of us in the family for YEARS with that damned See 'n Say. But The Baby likes it too much to leave it behind this time!
So all of our dishes are dirty, everyone is walking thru the house groaning from overeating, and now it's nap time for at LEAST 3 of us!
I'm happy when everyone finally leaves and it's just me and The Man. I can't wait to smooch on him and talk with him in our itty-bitty kitchen, after which, The Man decides to relax on the couch where he promptly falls asleep. I'm being quiet while watching the ending of one of my favorite shows. All of the sudden that damned DOG starts to bark, so I roll a little ways in my office chair that I ALWAYS sit in, it catches on the corner of the rug, and flips over sideways. Now, being a fat girl DOES have it's advantages at times, unfortunately, not when you fall in your office chair. So I'm laying on the floor, the arm of the chair wedged into my hip and belly fat, my leg flung back in an attempt to keep myself from falling, but is now resting on the leg of the chair.
The Man wakes up, "What the hell, what are you doing down there?" Ok, so I'm embarrassed, I am in pain, and the damn dog is still barking in the hall. "Ummm, nothing" I try to GRACEFULLY get up off the floor, but after the arm of the chair dislodges from me, I think my hip is broken. SWEAR TO GAWD it felt like it. I'm trying to laugh it off, I swear The Man thinks I'm the clumsiest woman on the planet and just looks at me thru his sleepy eyes, shakes his head at me, asks if I need help up, which I laugh at. "Oh no, I'm fine *gasp*, I can get up by myself. Oh look, I held onto my Easter candy!".
So here I am, at work today, grimacing and groaning, you can see the distinct outline of the chair arm in the bruise on my hip. I won't let The Man know that I'm in pain, and will try to hide the GAWD-awful bruises!
Taking another Motrin now... *sigh*
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Friday night, The Man and I went grocery shopping for Easter dinner. I love to shop, and we did have fun in the store. Saw my sister and we were trying to run each other over with our carts while our men were watching and trying to act like they didn't know us. The Man did finally say to Shell, "Ma'am, you shouldn't be drinking and driving a cart" since she was crashing her cart into him and some other guy was standing off to the side wondering what the hell...
Shell did run me into the portable freezer, which caught me offguard, left a bruise on my thigh and started the hysterics, no tampon box in sight, but lots of shellfish! I knew if I looked at the people around us, all would have been lost! I did manage to get it under control before losing it completely and was able to continue shopping with minimal giggling in the aisle. Funny to watch people trying VERY hard not to stare and wonder if I'm one of THOSE people that are only allowed out for special outings or something.
As The Man and I were checking out, I looked up and saw MY "those-we-do-not-speak-of" ex in the next check out lane with his new girlfriend. Now I try very hard in my life, not to make snap judgements of people, but I'm still pissed at that particular ex, so of course his new girlfriend looks like a crack whore, a fat one at that, if it's possible. She's 10 miles of bad road, she's been ridden hard and put away wet, etc... etc... but I just smile at The Man since I've had the good fortune to find him and no longer have to be with that ex. Good riddence!
So we are walking out of the store with our Easter supplies, eager to get home, snuggling and movies on my mind when I hear: "Thanks Pam!" being yelled out across the parking lot, I turn and I see Fat Crack Whore hanging out the window of a beat up van. I must have looked confused so she continued, thumbing at the lug sitting next to her: "I've got Ken", so ok then... I can't just let that one go: "Good luck with THAT then!"
So Fat Crack Whore is also only 12? *shudder* You can't help but feel sorry for the woman... she obviously doesn't know that she's stupid!
4 comments:
Fat Crack Whore?
I am curious to know what Shell says about it. :)
Yes, a Fat Crack Whore, you know the type, the kind that has hung out waiting for her Methodone clinic to open, and still uses on the side, AND was picked up in the bar where ALL the men know her name or at least her address! Wow... how ANGRY I sound. And here I am just pissed at my ex... hmmm... Guess she should have shut her pie hole while I was still feeling sorry for HER! LOL
Are you SURE you want to hang out ALL your dirty laundry?? Some might get the idea that you are a little jealous that there is a replacement on the scene.
Ok... First of all... eww...
Secondly, SOMEONE has mistaken my sympathy for the woman, for envy. Seriously, if she only knew what I know. Fat Crack Whore would be running for her life!
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