Big Kid is playing that techno song again and I really feel that if I hear it one more time in my entire LIFE, my ears and eyes will start bleeding. Literally, it begins playing and I immediately can't think and have to stop myself from killing someone. I'm trying not to be a bitch about it, because it's not Big Kid's fault that he likes lame, annoying music, but damn. Damn, damn, damn, how many times can he listen to that same song?
Also, little kid has sprayed my kitchen cabinets with Febreeze (and the smell of Febreeze makes me want to vomit, I cannot stand the stuff) and while coloring, he found a marker in the crayon box (and I had just gone through and tossed out all of the markers before giving it to him, but apparently I missed a short blue one) and wrote all over his face AND one of his cute, retro rock shirts. All over it. A shirt I paid way too much for, way too many years ago, way too far away from here. So he's in trouble.
And I ran over Big Kid's bike earlier. It was no one's fault but my own (although technically, one could say the bike shouldn't have been there) and I'm feeling pretty bad about that.
Things were going great until I left to pick up the kids though....
Personally, I am grateful for markers...
... when I was a kid, when I needed to color my entire stomach blue, I had only a ballpoint pen to use.
Totally not worth the effort, by the way.
I hate that Febreeze stuff too. In fact, if I find it in my house, it sends me into a rage :)
I don't like it when people try to cover up stink with perfume. It's worse.
I think that Big Kid needs earphones for Christmas. It would be like a gift for both of you.
I'm not sure about Little Kid. I'm worried there is no hope. I say worried because I'm afraid my Bud is going to be a "Little Kid."
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