Thursday, January 31, 2008

if we die....

My husband and I have been in a discussion, lately, about what would happen if we were to die, or if one of his siblings were to get killed in an accident. This brought about, of course, through a course of action my mother in law is facing. Here is what we decided:

If his oldest sister and her husband were to pass away, and she wanted us to take her kids, we would happily do it. We would bring them here to live with us, and we would sell her house and put the profit in accounts for them to use when they were in college (or older.)

If his younger brother were to pass away, and his ex-wife also, we would also happily raise those children.

If we pass away, his oldest sister offered to take them, but asked if she could live here. My work offers additional life insurance, and I am insured for $300,000 and Ryan for half of what I am. This should give whomever enough money to pay off our house, and they are welcome to stay here. :) But, they might have to buy a bus!!!

why .....

I love my kids, but this is why they are a pain in my behind....

  • They have broken my computer, thus I now have NO access to the internet. Hence, I have not yet put up some new photos of my trophy and Valentine stuff... I cannot use my computer at home. This is my work computer, and it has no drive for my SD card.
  • I keep asking them to NOT eat in my living room because they dropped food on my carpet and caused my Mastiff to eat a hole in the carpet. But, they keep doing it, anyway.
  • My house is always a disaster. What is so hard about cleaning up after yourself?
  • They are so expensive, if they would stop eating, I would be rich......

I love them, but man they make life harder...... :)

Thursday, January 03, 2008

Bitch meets her match.....

So, the holiday season is over and it is the day after Christmas. I need to get to the local Hallmark store to get my half off dated Christmas ornaments. I have an hour before they open, so I run into the craft store to quickly grab one item and return. There aren't many cars out front, so I am sure I am a shoe-in to get out quickly. I grab my item and wait in line to pay....

There is a well-dressed older woman in front of me. She is rummaging through her goodies in her basket. There are only 2 cashiers, so I have a long wait. I walk in front of my cart to look at some Cricut cartridges when the lady in front of me shoves me back so hard that I hit my cart, the one behind it, the lady behind that, the cart behind her, and the lady behind that one. I give her a crusty stare, but chalk it up to entitlement (she looked rather well off, I am sure I was beneath her.) I discovered that the purpose to the shove was to get her second cart, which was 5 feet away from me.

She proceeds to not move with the line, and when she does she does not take the second cart. I didn't want to be rude and ram my cart into hers to push it, so I walked it up to her. Upon returning to my cart, I felt her cart bounce off my legs. I turned to her glaring at me and telling me "I will thank you kindly to keep your hands off my things." Psycho. When I left, she was talking down to the cashier like he was crap for charging her $17 for a wreath she insisted was $12.

I make it to the Hallmark store with 10 minutes to spare. I am waiting outside and 2 minutes before the doors open, I see HER in the back of the line. I am just getting my last ornament, when I am suddenly pinned down against the wall. I finally pry myself off of it to find HER, the entitled BITCH, clawing at me. I stand up and the following conversation takes place:

Me: Could you please act like you have half an ounce of class and stop pushing? Nobody else is pushing.
Her: Well, I want that ornament and you are in my way. It's the last one, hand it to me.
Me: You can wait your turn like everyone else, stop pushing.
Her: Just give me the ornament.
Me: You will have to wait.

At this point, she turns to the lady next to me and demands the ornament. The lady gives us both a second glance and slowly goes to get it for her. I quickly snatch the ornament and put it in my basket.

Her: Give that to me. I am going to call the police. It is mine, let me have it.
Me: You will have this ornament over my dead body. If you weren't so busy messing around at the craft store, you would have been here on time to get it yourself.
Her: I am calling the police.
Me: Go ahead, I would love to tell them about you assaulting me three times.

It goes back and forth a while. Someone in the back starts clapping because I won't let her have it. She even tells on me to the sales clerk. A small voice in the back of my head told me to break it and give it to her, but at this point, it now means something to me. You see, it's my trophy. Good prevails over evil trophy, and it will forever hang on my tree with the memory of how it came to me.