Summer does weird things to a mother's brain. Because, my brain? I think it's crying. Either that, or it's whimpering a slow death. One way or the other, summertime sucks the life right out of you.
Wanna know my favorite summer activity? Taking my children to the store. I know it's going to be my own personal torture session before we even leave the driveway, but I do it anyway. It's like I'm so stupid I can't seem to learn from my past mistakes.
Just today I found myself in the isles of Target having a heated discussion with Child #2, because she felt it was bloody unfair that I wouldn't buy her a lamp. A lamp! I guess the one I bought her for Christmas is now worn out because she's turned it on all of 4 times. Good glory.
In the flower isle of Hobby Lobby, I turned around to find this:
Another delicious summer moment? Taking the Lamp Whiner to the podiatrist to have her 14 (14!!) warts shaved down and coated with acid.
The fantasticness just keeps on spreading.
Within these last few minutes, the 14 year old Wart Queen just texted me from her babysitting job. She is playing BananaGrams with the children she is in charge of, and she just taught them to spell 'Boobies'.
For the love, someone please make it stop.
My mother brain just officially shut down.