Lavender soap. Do we really need lavender soap? Oh yeah. I live with 5 girls.
Funny
Funny
Bus stop?
Some facts:
- I live with 5 women
- it snowed last night
- we have a big driveway
- it is 10 degrees outside
- our first middle daughter is afraid of… EVERYTHING
So, I’m out shoveling the driveway, and the first middle comes out to go to school. I’ve already shoveled and salted her a path to the street, but I have to hold her hand all the way down the driveway.
Next, she goes next door to meet the neighbor girl to walk to the bus stop with, but she comes back shortly and says “I don’t think she is coming today”.
So I walk her up to the bus stop, because I know she is afraid to go by herself.
While we’re standing there (in 10degree weather), the neighbor girl comes walking up.
Really?!?
Icky sticky paws
So the whole family came out with me tonight to the cell phone store to activate my new phone (yep, finally upgrading and dumping AT&T!)
The girls were good, so only wife thought we should go for ice cream. Not the good stuff; just McD’s. Everyone decided to get caramel sundae’s, and only wife just went through the drive through and parked.
After we were done and we were leaving, the little one said, “My seat is all sticky!”
And I said, “That’s ok babe, the whole car is sticky now.”
The dead zone…
The holidays are over! Now we enter the “dead zone” Only birthdays until the next major holiday; St. Patrick’s day.
No ladies, Valentines day doesn’t count. A holiday so the candy companies have SOME income between Christmas and Easter? A holiday to sell flowers, negligees, jewelry and cards? A holiday with the initials VD?
Got VD?
As men, we have to VD. We have to prove to the women we love, on one day a year, that we love them. But why don’t the things we do on a daily basis, or even on other major holidays count?
Because of the dead zone.
There are boys here!
My brother is here with with my nephews. There are boys here! I’m so excited. Burps. Farts. Punches. Tripping.
Oh man, this rocks!!
Sleepover…
So we had the neighbor girls (yes, more girls) over for a sleepover last night. We had to have both of them, because the youngest was complaining. I suggested a “kid trade”; bring one of theirs, send one of ours, but only wife kept arguing that it would be OK. I kept reminding her of what happened the other day when they were all together, and their dad even brought us a bottle of wine when he brought them over saying, “You’re going to need this.” (Yes, I love my neighbors!) But we didn’t drink it and only wife kept arguing that it would be OK.
Then she fell asleep at 10:30.
I was up with them stopping arguments, telling them to turn it down, separating them, re-uniting them, etc etc etc until 2:00 am. All while only wife slept peacefully.
It’s all about the kids, and they had a good time.
It’s all about the kids, and they had a good time.
It’s all about the kids, and they had a good time.
It’s all about the kids, and they had a good time.
It’s all about the kids, and they had a good time.
No beer and no TV make Homer something, something…
Neighbors, kids, my wife, and the electronic age.
I love our neighbors. They are great, all of them. I love their kids. So when the wife invited them over for an after Christmas “play date”, I had no complaints. And then she left me alone with them to go out shopping.
Luckily, I did not have to work today.
Things were mostly good, but as the day progressed, the younger ones kept “bugging” the older ones, and the older ones kept complaining. It was like a day long, never-ending game of “She’s touching me!” “I’m not touching you” “She’s touching me!”. And then there’s the two year old, who wants to be a part of everything.
So I separated them. I told the older ones, “If you don’t want them bugging you, go up in your room”.
After awhile, the little ones were knocking on the older one’s door. Bugging them.
So I separated them… again.
A little later, the older one came to me and said, “Dad, they won’t stop texting us”. Really? Really!?!
The technological age is great, and I love it, but now I have to stop electronic versions of “She’s touching me!” “I’m not touching you” “She’s touching me!”??? REALLY?!?
Christmas
So Santa brought me the BEST gift in my stocking; a BLACK umbrella. So now I don’t have to use the pink one.
Or the other pink one.
Or the flower one.