Crabby Pants and my family is probably thoroughly sick of me.

Oh, Cheeky Monkeys.  I need a hug.  This no smoking thing is a drag.  Hahahaha..look, even while in the throes of misery, I’m funny.   While the physical symptoms are being handled by dozens of bottles of Nicorette lozenges, the mental part is being a real pain in my hind end.  I’m dealing, but Mark deserves an award and I think my children may need therapy at some point down the road.  Typically a happy, very optimistic person, feeling crabby and out of sorts every day is wearing on me.  Things that would normally never bother me all of a sudden….ARE.  Let’s talk about ALL THE THINGS THAT ARE WRONG AND MUST BE STOPPED IMMEDIATELY because, for real y’all, I’m not super pleasant right now.

I have a brake light that comes and goes as it pleases.  The bulb is new, but there’s a wiring issue there.  I go over a bump, brake light goes out.  I go over another bump, brake light comes back on.  This has happened on and off for months.  I just need to ask Mark to fix it, which will probably take all of 10 minutes, but I haven’t.  And right now?  I’ve caught myself whaling on said back bumper with my pocket book twice and I stuck an Elmo Band-Aid over the idiot light that keeps blinking on and off on the dash.  Every time the light comes on I have some very choice words that I yell at it.  Well, two words to be exact.

Wood laminate flooring.  While mostly indestructible, it shows every single streak and smear, every footprint, every everything.  I have been brought to tears twice this week while yet again steam mopping this floor.  “OMG with the footprints!  Who is it with the feet in this house?  Oh.  My.  God.  Stop walking on the floors already!  DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG IT TAKES TO STEAM BOTH LEVELS OF THIS HOUSE?  NO, YOU DON’T, BECAUSE YOU’RE TOO BUSY WALKING, WALKING WITH YOUR FEET ALL OVER THE PLACE”.

Cat snot.  Scarlet has snot issues.  She had an awful sinus infection last year and as a result of scar tissue build up, she is now succeptable to congestion and needs a round of antibiotics every now and again.  She’ll snort and sneeze and cat snot goes flying.  Gross, but true.  I have a white comforter.  You can see how this can be upsetting.  Or maybe not.  I found a gorgeous new comforter at Goodwill the other day, I really love the colors (robin’s egg blue and tangerine..really) and unwittingly put it on the bed to admire it.  I came back into the room about half an hour later and Fatzilla had snotted on it and pulled out a mouthful of fur and spit it out.  This led to more tears.  “OMG THIS IS WHY WE CAN’T HAVE ANYTHING NICE IN THIS HOUSE! (I paid $4.99)  WHO DOES THAT, CAT?  WHY WITH THE FUR PULLING AND SNOTTING?  I AM NOT PAYING $1500 FOR A CAT VERSION OF A NOSE JOB FOR YOU!  WHO ARE YOU, KIM KARDASHIAN?  CATS DO NOT GET NOSE JOBS.  STOP SNEEZING ON EVERYTHING!   YOU HAVE YOUR OWN BED THAT ACTUALLY FITS IN THE WASHING MACHINE!  WHY WILL YOU NOT SNOT ON THAT???”  She cracked one eye open, glared at me and went back to sleep.  I’ve had her for 12 years, she’s used to my nonsense.

Parents that park in the bus lane when dropping off kids in the morning.  I drop Mad off every morning and it’s always a bottle-necked mess in front of her school.  People stop in the middle of the road, pull up on the curb, park in the bus lane, pretty much wherever they please.  I sat there for a good 5 minutes yesterday waiting for someone who parked her car in the middle of the street, left it running, got out and walked her kid to the door.  Yes, really.  While normally this would just annoy me, yesterday it sent me into Red Rage (Remember Ross on Friends?)  She had a line of traffic backed up behind her and was clueless.  “OMG LADY, THAT KID IS 12,  I’M PRETTY SURE SHE CAN MAKE IT 20 FEET TO THE FRONT DOOR BY HERSELF!  DON’T WORRY ABOUT THE OTHER DOZEN PARENTS IN LINE BEHIND YOU..NO ONE HAS A JOB OR ANYTHING THEY NEED TO GET TO”  There may or may not have been much arm waving and throwing myself over the steering wheel.  I forget.

Dishes left around the house.  We have a split-level home.  Kitchen is upstairs, family room is downstairs.  Dishes almost always get left in the family room.  Coffee cups, never less than 3.  Glasses, plates.   Now I am very guilty here.  I’ll get a cup of coffee, leave it downstairs, forget about it and make a new one while I’m upstairs.  So it’s pretty much my own laziness that’s ticking me off.  “OMG WITH THE DISHES, WHAT AM I, ALICE FROM MEL’S DINER?  DO I GET A TIP?  NOOOOOOO…..”

Locking the doors.  I know for a fact that the one time that I forget to lock an outside door to our home that a serial killer will pick that day to come and kill us all.  I am a freak about oh so many things locking the doors.  Broad daylight, locked.  Mark home?  Locked.  Police officers as neighbors?  Don’t care, locked.  Someone that lives here,  Mark, forgets to lock the outside door in our garage when he comes home.  Some psycho wandering around a nice, (heavily armed) neighborhood will come and kill me in my own house because someone forgot to lock the door.  “OMG WITH THE UNLOCKED DOOR AGAIN!  DO YOU WANT ME TO END UP WITH SOMEONE LOWERING LOTION TO ME IN A BASKET?  BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN IF YOU DON’T LOCK THESE DOORS!”

I could go on, but you get the drift.  Some days are good, some not so much, but I’m still trying.

Allyson Sorenson

About Allyson Sorenson

Bangor mom. BDN blogger. Volvo lover. Coffee drinker.