I want to have Mindy Kaling’s baby

In case I haven’t tried to make you read Is Everybody Hanging Out Without Me? And Other Concerns yet, here’s one last attempt. I read this book last week and am still cracking up. I promise, it’s funnier than Bossypants, and I heart Tina Fey. But the best thing about this book is that it accurately summed up my life philosophy. I can’t even think about this part without laughing (wickedly, of course). I have been quoting it to Bucket almost daily:

…you should know that I disagree with a lot of traditional advice. For instance, they say the best revenge is living well. I say it’s acid in the face–who will love them now? Another old saying is that revenge is a dish best served cold. But it feels best served piping hot, straight out of the oven of outrage. My opinion? Take care of revenge right away. Push, shove, scratch that person while they’re still within arm’s reach. Don’t let them get away! Who knows when you’ll get this opportunity again?

It’s like I wrote it myself. Mindy Kaling, I love you.

Leave it to the Brit

We’re sitting at dinner, talking about Tibs’ spelling words for the week. Most of them end with -ank. So I’m there at the table with Tibs, yelling them out:

“Thank!” “Sank!” “Rank!” “Bank!” “Tank!”

And under his breath, my charming husband mutters, “Wank.”

Queen Elizabeth would be so proud.

Deeply disturbing

This morning, as I was getting dressed, I was standing in my room stark naked.

Noodle yelled, “Oh yeah, baby!” and slapped my ass.

I’m not sure where this behavior comes from, but I’m blaming her father.

Thank God it was warm out

Yesterday, Noodle, Tibs and I all went to Tibs’ swim class. Beforehand, I made him strip off in the living room (praying that no one in the neighborhood could see his little naked bum shaking all over the house) and put his suit on. When I say “I made him,” I actually mean that I gave him a choice and he decided to put on the suit before class (so that he could do it while watching Spongebob), just so you know.

We got the suit on. I put his clothes in the swim bag, along with a towel and his goggles. I got bottles of water and snacks for each child. Out we went. We arrived on time. I was a responsible mother.

When we got to the Y, I told him to give me his Crocs and jacket, and I went to get his goggles. For a second, I thought I left the bag in the car. Of course not. It was at home.

I had to borrow a towel from the nice ladies at the front desk, and Tibs went home wearing Crocs without socks, a denim jacket, and a wet bathing suit. When I charge the batteries from our camera, I will post a photo. Let it be said that if DSS saw/sees it, I will be down to one child (or maybe none! Do they take all the kids out of your custody, or just the one wearing a wet bathing suit home from swimming in NOVEMBER?).

Brain: 0. Giant sucking hole of despair: 1.

Good and bad news

The good news is that my son, who shall henceforth be known as Tibs, told me today:

“You’re the goodest mama in the world!”

The bad news is that he said it because I let him have a cup of coffee when he got home from school.

He’s Ethiopian, dude. He’s probably been drinking coffee since birth. And besides, who are you to argue? I’m the goodest mama in the world.