It was a party up in here this past weekend. Papa Cool arrived from Michigan on Wednesday night, so mommy and Uncle E and daddy and Auntie Jamie could take him to get drunk at a Zinfandel tasting in San Francisco on Saturday, but the party started way before that. On Thursday night, Auntie Jamie, Uncle E, Sienna and Lucien came over for dinner, and well, mostly drinks. It was a zoo. Sienna didn’t nap at daycare, so she was about as sweet as vinegar pie. Lucien tipped over mommies triple vodka diet in the bathroom during his bath with Leona. Papa Cool spent three hours trying to start a bonfire, and by the time there were actual flames, nobody wanted to be outside. Leona kept bee-lining for the oven when mommy would open it to check the lasagna. Daddy got home late and cranky because he was stuck in traffic for an hour. By the end of the night, everyone was pissed off and tired. And, mommy left the kitchen a mess. Looked like a family of orangutangs had a Boogie Nights bash in there on Friday morning. Plus, the Caesar salad stunk the house up to high Heaven, so we all woke up to the putrid, overwhelming stench of garlic. Milk and Cheerios and garlic…mmm.
NEWS FLASH!!!!! Leona is about to cut her fourth tooth. WOO HOO, right? Right. Who gives a shit? Do you know how many teeth I have? I can eat steak, and bacon, and Slim Jims, but ohhh, Princess Rat Baby gets another tooth and mommy is so excited you’d think she’d won a lifetime supply of designated drivers. I can’t do anything these days to compare to The Rat’s futile accomplishments. If she takes a big, stinky dump, mommy beams with pride. What a good poop, baby girl! Mommy is so proud of you! You must feel sooo much better now! Me? I get yelled at for pooping in my kiddy toilet these days. Mommy tells me she is sick of emptying my stinky crap into the big boy potty, and if I don’t start doing it myself she is going to throw my kiddy toilet in the garbage. Once upon a time, my parents baked me a fucking CAKE for dumping in that thing. You see how shit changes, yes? You see how The Rat has ruined my life? I get in trouble for pooping in a potty that is rightfully mine, a potty that is specifically designed and created for asses like mine to dump in. Some kids don’t even poop in a potty until their four years old. Maybe mommy should think about that. Yeah. Think about that mommy before you start finding steaming piles of turds in your fucking purse.
Moving on. I drank some mouth wash yesterday. Mommy vows she is going to child-proof the house better, but I think she is going to wait until Poison Control gives her the green light to take me in to get my stomach pumped. The story is, I had to pee, but daddy was occupying my bathroom, so mommy sent me to her bathroom. And there that big, loose-capped bottle of cinnamon Listerine sat waiting for me, right on the sink counter. So, I took a sip. It was so good, I prepared for an afternoon of chugging. I ran to mommy’s bedroom door–I could see her sitting in the living room–and announced that she NOT COME INTO THE BATHROOM NO MATTER WHAT! And then I slammed the door shut. I heard mommy utter a hell no, and come stomping down the hallway. I ran in to the bathroom and tried to drink more before she came barging in the bathroom, but I got nervous hands and spilled it on the floor. Dammit! So close! So she looked at me with the we’re-going-to-shove-fingers-down-your-throat-to-induce-vomiting look, and I panicked. How much did you drink? she asked, stuffing her nose in my mouth. Tell me now! How much? And I wished I knew the answer that would prevent her from gagging me to death while hanging my head over the toilet, but I didn’t have that answer at that very moment, so I just looked at her with wide eyes and shook my head. Eventually, she calmed down, but not before yelling at daddy about putting the caps back on shit so the kids don’t get drunk on mouthwash and die, which is actually how I would end my life given the option. Then I snuggled up with the old man with some fresh breath and a buzz. Someday, someone will understand that this house is a death trap, and I am not fucking kidding, and Child Protective Services will whisk me away to a tropical paradise where all the girls have long, straight black hair and smell like coconut, and my milk comes with little umbrellas that double as eye-pokers for Leona.
Anyway. Mommy is giving out eye-droppers of Tylenol to Leona because her big, bad, ferocious fourth tooth is giving her a fever. I am going to watch where she puts it and hope the cap doesn’t go back on tight. Chug-a-lug-lug, me likey the drug.
Until next time.