28 Feb

A simple homework assignment.

After being graded and returned home with the child, it returned to school with the following note:

Dear Ms. Davis,
I want to be very clear on my child’s illustration. It is NOT of me on a dance pole on a stage in a strip joint. I work at Home Depot and had commented to my daughter how much money we made in the recent snowstorm. This drawing is of me selling a shovel.

Mrs. Harrington

I’ve been fooling around with the idea of experimenting with Rogaine. I’m convinced my hair is becoming thinner faster than Mary-Kate Olsen back in 2007. Every time I shower, I clog the drain with a hair ball big enough to dam the Rio Grande. It’s starting to make me panic. When your hair is longer than Ron Jeremy’s D, it falls out faster than Cameron Diaz’s in My Sister’s Keeper. It’s a problem. Bring on the Rogaine, Dad.

I wish oatmeal wasn’t so scalding hot when it comes out of the microwave. There is no way to protect yourself from an oatmeal burn. Once it touches your tongue, the burn is there to stay. And then, faster than you can say, “This oatmeal is hot as f–“, it’s ice cold. Is there no happy medium? I want comfortably warm oatmeal for once. Someone make it happen.

I keep having nightmares about losing my teeth. I’ve been having them for years, but they never get any less scary. In my dreams, I’m always surrounded by people, panicking and trying to get dental aid as my teeth all become bloody and loose. I always find myself shoving my loose teeth back up into my bloody gums, usually too far, and then running around trying to find somebody who can help me, but in vain. In these dreams, I always think that I wake up. I run to the bathroom mirror to check my incisors and molars, wiggling them back and forth with my fingers….only to find out that it was real.

But then I actually wake up. That’s always a relief. I wonder what teeth dreams represent. I’ve looked on several dream dictionary websites, but they all say something different. Menopause? Sexual impotency? Fear of appearance? Anxiety about my social perception? I don’t know who to believe.

Meet my newest nemsis:

I have replaced three, count them, THREE (3) tires in the past 15 days. Why? These god forsaken potholes lurking about in the destroyed pavement around town. After the snow plows barreled through town over the past two weeks, it ripped up chunks of the road and didn’t stop to apologize. When I drive through town, I feel like I’m driving through a war zone that has been devastated by land mines. Every fifty feet, there are enormous craters in the asphalt, and trying to dodge them is asking for a reckless driving citation. I’m not playing Mario Kart here, governor. I’m trying to drive to work. I have popped three tires because of these bastards, and I’m not happy about it. I will be sending my Goodyear bills to the city of Leawood, Kansas. Just watch.

Well, time to watch back-to-back episodes of House with my man candy.

Me, to my customer’s husband: “Do you hunt hogs?”
Husband: “Nah, I like skinny girls.”


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