Nepotism

Good Lord in Heaven.  My good friend, Julie, awarded me some sort of blogging prize.  Yeah, I know, it's not really a prize if you're friend gives it to you, and it doesn't come with, well, any sort of a prize.  


Examples of others who were granted the same such prize by Julie include:
A friend who moved to Africa and is curing blindness;
Another woman besides Julie who has had three babies all at once, hasn't killed herself, her husband, or her kids;
A very sweet family that has a child with special needs; and
A blog offering parenting advice.

One of these things is not like the others,
One of these things just doesn't belong,
Can you tell which thing is not like the others
By the time I finish my song?


The prize also comes with conditions, further rendering it even less of a prize and bringing it much more in line with that of a curse.  Apparently, if I don't nominate others for the prize, post some logo on my website, and give Julie a high-five, 1,000 puppies will die and the Resurrection won't happen. 


You have Julie to thank for an everlasting lifetime of Purgatory and the death of 1,000 puppies.  Here's her blog so that you may thank her appropriately, as you know that I'm way too lazy and self absorbed to follow any of those directions.  www.leclercqfamily.blogspot.com.  

Don't Throw the Baby out with the Toilet Water

Seriously? You really didn't know you were pregnant until a baby flew out of your vajay and straight into the toilet at McDonald's?

Seriously?

Please tell me that you've seen this show, "I Didn't Know I was Pregnant".

I mean, apparently not knowing that you're pregnant until you a) deliver a baby into a toilet at a fast food joint; b) deliver a baby into a toilet at your house; or c) deliver a baby into a toilet at your baby daddy's house is an epidemic in America.   

There is more than enough material to have a weekly program about it, with several different women starring in each episode.  This is completely shocking/fascinating.  And even more shocking and fascinating that these women would actually admit to having no clue on national TV.

So, let's go through the list:

You quit taking birth control.  Check.

You recently experienced rapid weight gain.  Check.

No period.  Check.

Crazy mood swings.  Check.

Baby repeatedly kicks you in your ribs.  Check.  

Still no clue.  Check.  

Yeah, not sure I'm buying it...

Call me a cynic, but where I come from, this is what we refer to as denial--I'll even spare you the whole river in Egypt reference.

The most confusing part is, that EVERY time EVERY woman is asked by the 911 operator whether she could possibly be pregnant the answer is a resounding NO.  You are a women, right?  

I swear to God (I know, I shouldn't swear to God), I took a pregnancy test before writing this blog entry.  Not that I eat at McDonald's unless I have the most severe kind of hangover, but it would be just my righteous luck to be all hungover and have some 16-year-old high school dude have to coach me through lamaze while on the can at the McDonald's on Line Avenue.   Let's get real--my water is much more likely to break at Taco Bell, not Micky D's.

And for all of you out there wondering why I have a stash of EPT's at my house, every so often, I get completely paranoid that I've served up some hypothetical embryo a couple-o-martinis and a bottle of wine.  This might shock you, but I'd feel really bad if my kid got fetal alcohol syndrome.  Plus, y'all would all totally talk trash about me behind my back, which is way more embarrassing than having a kid with that whole close-together-eye thing.  [Insert picture of that creepy banjo-playing dude from Deliverance here.]  Not to mention those pesky protective services people...

Here's a little nugget for you though: My mom had a hot buttered rum on the way to the hospital when in labor with me.  Just learned about that this year.  Your water broke!  Cheers!  Have a shot that belongs in the hands of a college spring breaker!  

I know.  Sadly, it explains A LOT.

Check Mate

If you are under the age of 80, you have absolutely no business writing a check at the grocery store.  And for heaven's sake, don't start pulling your checkbook out of your pocketbook AFTER the clerk tells you the amount of your groceries, so you can then start filling out  your check in old English scroll with your quill pen at the most inopportune time. 

If you can use a Brookshire's card to save money, you can use a similar such card to save you some time.