Thursday, September 9, 2010

It's a Jungle Around Here....No Really

Good Morning Readers,

How are you? I'm doing well, just a little concerned. I don't care what anyone says, but being a housewife is a dangerous business, which, consequently, harbors hazards untold. I guess subconsciously I've always know this, but as of late, it's starting to fully reveal itself....and it's becoming an "expect the unexpected" type of life. Oh just gather round and I'll tell you what I mean....

Example 1) You must be a fearless spider killer....cold, both in the eyes and the heart. Now, you could just let those hairy little monsters run free, and simultaneously pat yourself on the back for being a little closer to St. Francis...OR...you could grab the nearest shoe and smash it to smithereens onto the wall. I personally, opt for plan B. Why? For the simple reason that in my mom-reasoning, everything is out to get my babies, and I must protect them... Insane? Maybe. All I know, is that I came face to face with one giant, particularly gangly fellow of the arachnid persuasion in my basement the other day, and let's just say....he didn't live to tell the tale.

Example 2) You simply must arm yourself for perilous cleaning situations. I've been presented with a couple of these lately(one of them involved facing what lives in the bottom of my bathtub)but the most frightening by far, was what was lurking in my refrigerator.
Chocolate pudding is usually harmless...usually. But when it's taken up residence within the recesses of your fridge, it's time to take action. My usual defense is to simply throw the entire offensive container into the garbage (I've lost a lot of good Tupperware this way mind you).
However, on this particular occasion, I'd been stupid and stored the pudding in one of my nice mixing bowls. Recognizing that it would be in poor taste to throw away a wedding gift out of pure fear and/or laziness, I instead, rolled up my sleeves and went to work. The former pudding creature growled at me and clung to the sides of the bowl, but I smacked it hard with a spoon and "THWAPPED" it into the sink. As I watched it swirl down the drain, I decided right then and there, that pudding at 11pm is forevermore out of the question.

Example 3) The housewife must be prepared to be pooped, peed and thrown up on at any given point in the day. Just this past morning, I was assaulted by all three in a half hour's time...all before breakfast. After that, my daughter peed on the changing table twice. Before nap time, she threw up on my shirt, rendering it useless by complete and utter saturation. Aaaaand......just when I thought the tirade was subsiding, my beautiful, handsome baby boy looked at me, scrunched up his face, and completed an act I can only describe as an "Up the Backer". Please see description below:

Up the Backer 
- noun

1.) The phenomena of a baby pooping with with such force, as to push the squishiness all the way out of the diaper, and up the back of the child.

2.) A baby poops so hard, it makes it into the hair, resulting in an unplanned bath.

Origin- 2010

Yep, dangerous and dirty work I say. I'm starting to think I needed some sort of special opp training for this job....or at least a uniform. But let's face it, I'd probably keep showing up in my pajamas. Until tomorrow readers...Until tomorrow.

Paige