Grosser than gross, and then a bit grosser.

Do you remember that game where kids would play "What's grosser than gross?" and you had to come up with a grosser thing about the previous thing that was said? (Am I even remembering correctly?) And perhaps I'm dating myself a little. I guess this was before video games were invented, when kids were bored and actually played with little plastic GI Joes and Barbie. Back in the Mad Lib day, I'm going.
So what is grosser than gross?
Waking up to the sound of my dog vomiting a pile next to my bed. (Okay, this actually happened the other night. Nasty, I know!)
What's grosser than gross?
Umm. Okay, grosser than gross would be someone sticking a dry toothbrush into the pile and brushing their teeth with it. (Blech! Nobody would do that in a million years. I hope. If you would, I don't think I want to know you. No offense, though. But that would make you a scarey person. Or just a person with really bad breath? I don't know. I don't have many friends. I may want to know you; but just maybe not eat at your house. Am I hurting your feelings?)

Moving on?
If that little blog bite above doesn't show you my infinite genius, how bout this one?
So these people come over cause they're buying something we're selling, and my kids are bouncing about the December driveway in barefeet, so I'm yelling at them, but in French, not because I'm fancy or my French is so good, only because my mother yelled at me in French, so it's this habit 'that I say what I heard said' thing. Well, we end up talking about my mother being French, and the man says,
"What do you think of Sarkozy?" & I reply,
"I've never been there."

So by now I should have built up you confidence for the day :).
Run! Run while you can! ( I don't know if that's for you or for me!?)

but I have a kitchen waiting for me.
She's got spilt coffee on her tacky teal tops, and some lentils that went over the pan & onto the stove. She's saying, "Come to me. Come squeeze out the soggy sponge in the sink and scrub me..." I must keep the fridge closed, because if I open it, they will perhaps harmonize. "Clean me with your stinky sponge, make us smell like pine or lemon! Yeah!" the fridge would add in a Barry White voice, "And get that stank old celery out of here, baby! Cause I can't get enough of your love! But I've got too much of Mister Celery's love! Baby!"
I know it already. I've completely lost my mind.
I haven't much desire to get in that kitchen but I think I'm going to have to face it. I'll though a cd in Shan's Hello Kitty cd player and be off now. Natalie Merchant, here I come.

(Thanks for reading me, by the way! You have been so 'Kind & Generous' ~)

I want to thank you, thank you ;) thank you, thank you

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