One of the first things I’m gonna do after this kid pops out is come up with some zingers! I used to be so good at it! So Good!
When the kids were acting up, I’d zing them right into place.
When my husband came home pissy, I’d zing the grumpiness right outta him.
When politicians would call during breakfast asking for my vote, I’d zing them so flipping hard, they feared a front page scandal!
Now though, the baby has zapped all the zing right outta me. I’m sure I still have it, but it’s probably hiding by my feet or some other place I can’t really see any more.
Just tonight I had to tell my son 15 times to pick up his monstrous Nerf gun. This thing weighs about 50 pounds and comes with 400 sticky bullets. Which, by the way, are never actually ‘in’ the gun, but laying all over the house. He claims to not be able to find any bullets, but I can easily catch a dozen on my socks just walking from one room to another. I’m sure any one out there with a son can sympathize with me.
Anyways, it was finally bed time and so of course that means the kids are hopping around like 2 coke addicts who just chugged Red Bull from Pixie Sticks. I was frustrated and began barking orders just like my Drill Sargent Mama used to do when she was ready to rip my limbs apart. That’s when I saw that damn gun. I
ran wobbled over, and since it’s too difficult to bend over and pick things up, I pointed and screamed, “AND TOMMY TAKE THIS DAMN NERF GUN TO YOUR ROOM OR…I’M…GONNA…PUT IT IN THE REFRIGERATOR!!!!”
Wow. Did I really just say that? Worst part was a tripped all over the words.
My entire family stopped what they were doing and slowly turned to look at me. My husband was the first to crack. He starts giggling like a fucking….I don’t know…happy, giggly guy…and then the children join in. I covered my face and was laughing/crying. “Leave me alone! I’m pregnant!” I wailed like the Elephant Man. “I’m not an animal!”
My family’s pretty cool, though. They covered me with hugs and picked all the toys up. Then my husband got the kids to bed. Don’t “awwwww” just yet, ladies. My husband’s not that sweet. Cause for the rest of the week whenever I’d complain about anything; bills, laundry, the annoying kid that lives across the street, he was sure to joke, “Just don’t put them/it/him in the refrigerator!”
Oh, Yuk it up, my love! In less than 10 weeks, I’m gonna come back and zing you till you can’t see straight! Stop smiling! I didn’t mean in that way! Pervert.
Thanks for Reading!