Mood: don't ask
Topic: Things in life that suck
I did not win $500 at the Big Fancy Casino tonight. Nor did I win $100. Hell, I didn't win shit tonight. I'd have counted myself lucky to have won actual shit, that's how bad it was. And the stupid electronic blackjack dealer was obviously the antichrist because that bitch took my $10 in all of 5 minutes. That was humiliating. To whom? Only to myself because I was surrounded by complete strangers and I could care less if they were watching or not.
No dead people have talked through my computer tonight. I think they are feelin' the cranky vibes I'm givin' off. I don't think they'd wanna mess with me tonight. I'd be all up in their business goin' "If you are going to talk to me E-NUN-CI-ATE, ya dead idiot." That's the kind of mood I'm in.
And I'm a horrible mother. Yep. G'head and call DHS, I'll wait while you get them on the line.
Sam fibbed and told me his throat hurt this evening. Well, I honestly never once, not for a second believed the child's throat hurt. His big sister is sick and he is wanting attention as well. He's the middle child, this is what he does. So when I was giving the girls their bedtime medicines I called him into the kitchen as well. I handed him two Motrin chewable tablets. I was going to teach that child a lesson, I was. I figured the Motrin wasn't going to hurt him and I KNOW he hates the chewable tablets. He started whining and then moved on to crying, but I was standing firm. He was going to take the Motrin if I had to make them into suppositories. So after much gagging and some weird throaty hacking thing, he got the first one down. I had to swat him twice in order to get the next one even near his mouth. Now at this point, I bet you really ARE dialing DHS and honestly, I can't say I blame you. I am evil, folks. Okay, so he chewed up both tablets and I gave him some water and walked out of the room. I no sooner got into the living room when I heard SPLAT and before I could even think about what was coming from my mouth I yelled "YOU LITTLE SHIT - YOU DID NOT JUST BARF IN MY KITCHEN FLOOR!!!!" And then he started crying. Oh but your evil commentator here didn't even feel bad. I was just pissed off to no end that he made himself throw up! I am payin' for my raisin' on that one because I was notorious as a child for making myself vomit when I didn't want to take medicine. Oops, sorry about that one, Mom. Karma's a bitch, I'm realizing that one. I walked back into the kitchen and thought that I should probably count to ten or something because I was pretty mad, but for the life of me I couldn't remember how to count. I looked down and saw a pile of barf, splattered in about a 4 foot radius and do you wanna know what I said? I said, "Did you eat green beans for lunch, son?" The child never eats green beans! I was so proud. Well, I was still mad then, but now I'm proud. So there he stood at the trash can, spitting and coughing like there was no tomorrow and I was cursing under my breath while I cleaned up the floor. I even told him that I had no sympathy for him. I reiterate, I am evil. What kind of horrible parent has no sympathy for their child when they barf??? An evil one, I'm here to tell ya. When we were both calmed down, after he had brushed his teeth and was settled in his bed, with a trashcan beside his bed (because the way my luck has gone he probably, in all actuality, has a stomach virus or something) he apologized for lying to me. I asked him if he was worth it and he shook his head no and said, "Oh Momma, those Motrin chewables are nasty! I tried to tell you!"
When it was all over with I said "Can you believe he did that?" Paul shook his head and said, "I just can't believe you called him a little shit! I've never heard you call the kids that to their face!" I felt about 2 inches tall as I took my sluggy, lowlife self out to my van and lit up my very last cigarette.
Man, it was a Monday all evening.