Please don’t pencil in your eyebrows.

I’ve been meaning to blog, but never have enough thoughts about any ONE thing to make a good post.  I do know that Walmart doesn’t stock their shelves well, that sex changes after 40, and that little boys really shouldn’t pencil in their eyebrows.  I do know that my hair is fried and I don’t do anything to it to fry it, that an ice auger will buy you friends, and that my cat has a bubble wrap fetish.

But as far as writing about anything funny or sarcastic, I think that I haven’t really laughed much lately.  Too many adult responsibilities.  Not enough wine.  Not enough Abrah.

When the kids are all still making nasties in their diapers and sticking everything in their mouths you look forward to the day when they’re self-sufficient and you can sit back and watch them accomplish all their . . . accomplishments and then you walk in the door one afternoon to TEENAGE REEK and mysterious stains in the carpet, no food in the house even though you spent $150 at the grocery store yesterday, and dirty socks under every piece of furniture.  Suddenly you start watch the amount of liquid in your liquor bottles, smelling every room for smoke when you get home, and weird charges on your phone bill.  Your toothbrush smells funny sometimes, hairbrushes disappear every time you need one, and there’s always an unexplained pile of sugar on the kitchen counter.  The remote is sticky, the headphones on your mp3 player are gone, and the socks have now traveled to the back seat of your car.  There are only pennies in every change jar, there’s more toothpaste on the counter than in the tube, and every day at work you look down to find that there’s a white stripe of toothpaste right at sink level on your stomach.  Soon you find yourself searching for blue hair dye, batman sweatshirts, and then the kid with the eyebrows shows up and you have to stop blogging before he sees your title.


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