Why is it so difficult to have mood swings and PMS in a house with nothing but men? I mean seriously...I felt like I was slightly homicidal last night. Someone was gonna get hurt.
So I hid the remote to the television in the sofa cushions, curled with the snuggle blanket I stole from Russia and watched Food Network for a few hours...
then one of them had the gall to ask me to cook something...
at 10 o'clock at night. Oh.hell.no. I promise, nothing got cooked because they got scared.
Why is it that the dishwasher can be completely EMPTY, but still you leave the dishes in the sink waiting for me to rinse them off and put them into the EMPTY dishwasher??? Seriously, are you FRIGGIN' kidding me, dude? (and yes, friggin' is a word...especially when I am hormonal.)
Why is it, my men wait until I am concentrating or working on something that requires my complete attention and then they feel free to interrupt me. I need a big hat that says, in blinking lights...Leave Me Alone Right Now Or You Will Die.
And does this make much sense?? The Prosecutor comes home for lunch some days...yesterday was one of those days. I had just pulled that lovely Apple Cake out of the oven and finished drizzling (okay...it was more like dumping) caramel sauce over that warm yumminess. I offered him a small bit to accompany his lunch.
He puts his hand up in a stopping manner.
"No, no thank you...I am on a diet and am going to lose this extra weight, but thanks just the same."
He is a very gracious, but rather imposing prosecutor. I shrugged it off and did not take offense until he asks...
"Is all the spaghetti and meatballs gone that you made?" (Think fat laden, home-made spahetti and meatballs that make you want to nap afterwards.)
"No sir, you son polished that off for breakfast" was my reply. Around here, ya snooze/ya lose...simple as that.
I was getting ready to exit the kitchen when I heard The Prosecutor say...
"That's okay...I will eat the rest of the Honey Baked ham."
Excuse me, your honor, but I beg the court's permission to find The Prosecutor IN CONTEMPT. (Translation: Seriously Dude...are you friggin' kidding me?)
This is Home Girl and hormones or not, I wouldn't have it any other way.