The Twelve Days of Christmas – Mommy Juice Style

Kinko! For God's sake, please don't poop in there! Bad kitty!

Kinko! Bad kitty! Does that look like the litter box?

On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave me to me…

  • a Marriage that is Stress-Free

On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…

  • Two Little Loves –  Zaffy and Mgazi, of course, the best daughters a mom could ask for
  • and a Marriage that is Stress-Free

On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…

  • Three “Take Ten”s – you know, when you’re feeling a little like you are going to lose it. Like you might snap. Like your head might pop and spray brain tissue across the room (Hey, if it reached the Christmas Tree I wouldn’t have to go digging around for those lost ornaments!) Like you are about to smack someone right then and there even though there are witnesses. Breathe. Take ten.
  • Two Little Loves
  • and a Marriage that is Stress-Free

On the fourth day of Christmas, my stinkin’ cat whose about to get kicked out of the house gave to me…

  • Four Kitty Turds –  Every morning without fail, I wake up to find my otherwise adorable feline friend, Kinko, has shat somewhere in the house — on the kids’ bathmat, on the kids’ bedroom carpet, on my husband’s pants. (Hey, Russell, it’s not just me that gets annoyed when you leave your clothes on the floor!)
  • Three “Take Ten”s
  • Two Little Loves
  • and a Marriage that is Stress-Free

On the fifth day of Christmas, my pawn broker gave to me…

  • (72 bucks for) Five Golden Rings – yeah, money’s a little tight.
  • Four Kitty Turds
  • Three “Take Ten”s
  • Two Little Loves
  • And a Marriage that is Stress-Free

On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…

  • Six Hairs a Graying, Teeth Decaying, Kids Disobeying, Spittle Spraying, Thoughts Betraying – I’ve had a bad day six, just sayin’.
  • (72 bucks for) Five Golden Rings
  • Four Kitty Turds
  • Three “Take Ten”s
  • Two Little Loves
  • And a Marriage that is Stress-Free

On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…

  • Seven… seven… damn! What rhymes with “swimming”? Brimming? Skimming?
  • Six Hairs a Graying
  • (72 bucks for) Five Golden Rings
  • Four Kitty Turds
  • Three “Take Ten”s
  • Two Little Loves
  • And a Marriage that is Stress-Free

On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…

  • Eight Maids a Cleaning – I don’t own cows, what do I need Eight Maids a Milking for? Now, if a cow produced wine… well, then, this would deserve a rethink…
  • Seven Diets a Slimming <– lame
  • Six Hairs a Graying
  • (72 bucks for) Five Golden Rings
  • Four Kitty Turds
  • Three “Take Ten”s
  • Two Little Loves
  • And a Marriage that is Stress-Free

On the ninth day of Christmas, my therapist gave to me…

  • Nine Days Xanaxing – Can you imagine? Nine anxiety-free days. *Blissful Sigh* Thank God for therapists who are willing to treat people who don’t actually have anything wrong with them! Without all my perfectly normal worries and fears, maybe I’ll finally get some sleep!
  • Eight Maids a Cleaning
  • Seven Trees a Trimming <– blech
  • Six Hairs a Graying
  • (72 bucks for) Five Golden Rings
  • Four Kitty Turds
  • Three “Take Ten”s
  • Two Little Loves
  • And a Marriage that is Stress-Free

On the tenth day of Christmas, my children gave to me…

  • Ten Morns to Sleep In – Holy crap! The Xanax is working!
  • Nine Days Xanaxing
  • Eight Maids a Cleaning
  • Seven… seven…. seven… nothing
  • Six Hairs a Graying
  • (72 bucks for) Five Golden Rings
  • Four Kitty Turds
  • Three “Take Ten”s
  • Two Little Loves
  • And a Marriage that is Stress-Free

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love  gave to me…

  • Eleven Tears a Wiping – I’m not crying because I’m overwhelmed, scared, and feeling as though I’m not good enough. I’m crying because I’m pissed!
  • Ten Morns to Sleep In
  • Nine Days Xanaxing
  • Eight Maids a Cleaning
  • Seven Periods of Skipping – OMG! It’s Meno Clause!
  • Six Hairs a Graying
  • (72 bucks for) Five Golden Rings
  • Four Kitty Turds
  • Three “Take Ten”s
  • Two Little Loves
  • And a Marriage that is Stress-Free

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my credit card gave to me…

  • Twelve Brookstone Products Humming – What? Did I say something?
  • Eleven Tears a Wiping
  • Ten Morns to Sleep In
  • Nine Days Xanaxing
  • Eight Maids a Cleaning
  • Seven – why are you even reading seven? There’s nothing to see here!
  • Six Hairs a Graying
  • (72 bucks for) Five Golden Rings
  • Four Kitty Turds
  • Three “Take Ten”s
  • Two Little Loves
  • And a Marriage that is Stress-Free!!!!!!!!!!!!

First image courtesy of m_bartosch / FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Last image courtesy of photoexplorer / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

I Know a Sucker When I See One… in the Mirror

So, I’m at the store waiting in line to buy my stuff, chatting on the phone with my friend, Toni. (How about that for a shout-out, Toni? You do still read this blog, right?)

So, I’m waiting my turn, minding my own business, regaling Toni with the latest hilarity in my life when a quick movement behind me catches my attention. Something has changed but I’m not sure what. I scan the items on the conveyor belt.

  • Motor oil
  • Batman costume
  • Glass bottles
  • Rags
  • Hubba Bubba gum
  • Nail polish remover

I quickly come to two disturbing conclusions:

  1. I could create a bomb with these items and wreak some serious vigilante justice; and
  2. that Hubba Bubba ain’t mine.

“Will you buy this gum for me?”

I turn around to find an old woman standing behind me. And by old, I mean batshit crazy. I can tell because her skirt is hiked up to within an inch of her crotch and tucked into her underwear (but only on one side), her blouse is mis-buttoned, and she’s wearing a maroon crocheted beret at a cocky tilt that tells me she meant to put it there. To round out her ensemble she’s chosen to don royal blue koozies on her feet. Last but not least, she has no teeth with which to chew this Hubba Bubba she’s hoping I’ll purchase for her.

The only thing appropriate about her is the fact that the undergarments, which are cinching her skirt at an uncomfortably revealing angle, are in fact, pale green granny panties.

But who am I to judge?

“Just a minute, Toni.” I place my hand over the phone and smile at the woman. “Sure,” I say. “Why not?”

I resume my conversation with Toni and mime with the cashier, who could care less what I’m buying or for whom, and pay for my purchases. The woman behind me scoops up her gum and is out the front door before I’ve even begun my usual apology for “forgetting” my reusable shopping bag.

As I leave the store, I see batshit crazy lady wandering in the parking lot. I begin my standard post-purchase routine of trying to locate my keys in my purse, when they are actually in my jeans pocket when again, my peripheral vision warns me that’s something’s up.

“Hang on a sec, Toni. I think she’s back.”

Clutching her Hubba Bubba in her left hand, batshit crazy lady mimics smoking a cigarette with her right. “You don’t happen to have any chips, do ya?”