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Showing posts from December, 2018

Ransom

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Tripping over shoes is exactly why I agreed to a puppy, as if four kids isn't enough. Leave your shoes at your own risk with this terror around. You can tell by his shifty eyes he's up to no good! Unfortunately this cuddly deterrent, capable of devouring his weight in Christmas ornaments, hasn't scared my 15-year-old daughter, the Imelda Marcos of footwear, who has no less than a closet full of shoes laying around on any given day. I have threatened to throw her shoes on the porch with her three brothers' fragrant locker room beauties, however, that's become an expensive proposition with three pairs of hers already stolen. Apparently her fashion style is in high demand and less rancid than the boys', so I opted for a shoe rack inside, allowing two pairs at a time while training the puppy the rack is off limits. Needless to say, my advanced math teenage daughter cannot count. She entirely consumes the upper rack and most of the floor on any given day, a

Tsunami Before Coffee

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This morning began like any other, dogs out, coffee on, my starving 15-year-old daughter accusing me of running out of food in the house, rushing my 8-year-old to the bus stop, wetting down my 13-year-old's hair, lest he look like a rooster at the band concert tonight, and verifying my 11-year-old had black pants and a white shirt that fit for his first band concert. This was all before my first cup of Joe! Determining I'd have to add 'buy black pants' to my endless To Do list today, I made my ritual stop in the boys' bathroom to flush the simmering pot whatever they had deposited. A boys' bathroom is a Petri dish of disgusting bodily fluids and this morning was no exception. Little did I know it was a ticking time bomb ready to explode. Like a Magic Tree House book, I was transported on yet another Adventure In Motherhood: 'Tsunami Before Coffee'! Flushing the handle, I turned to jog downstairs for a cup of coffee before stopping cold in my tracks. My