These Damn Kids

You know, my house used to look similar to those you see in the Pottery Barn catalogs. I took great pride in choosing eclectic but matching pieces of furniture and decor that had character.

Now it looks like the fucking Fisher Price ghetto. I'm tired of primary colored plastic crap, I'm even tired of the classic wooden toys, rockers and pedal cars I've bought them. I'm sick of the fucking Elmo figurines and the Hot Wheels cars that hurt like a sonofabitch when you step on them in the middle of the night. I'm tired of seeing play food scattered throughout the house and wedged into fine pieces of pottery that I purchased many moons ago. The next time I find alphabet magnets in my rice steamer I'm just going to go apeshit and throw the whole kit and caboodle into the woods. THIS IS MY HOUSE DAMMIT!!!!

The little kid just pulled down a primitive sugar mold candle holder (mine is black and has more holes and no stand, but you get the idea) and two of the glass candles inside broke. I am ticked. I don't know anywhere locally to purchase them, am unsure if I can find purple glass again and I don't really have the money to be replacing decorative things that we don't use.

Between the pets and the kids, I just can't have anything nice. Next time I want to splurge on something I'm just going to puke on it, roll it in cat hair and then bounce test it until pieces fly off and then I'll remember why I shouldn't bother.

These kids better grow up to be rich, they owe me big time. BIG TIME. They'll be paying me back, as a matter of fact I'm going to go start an invoice for the little kid right now. Destructive little punk.