Reasons My Day Sucked, by Blair. As an alternative to a written composition by Ralphie Parker.
1. At 7:15am, Harrison threw up all over me mid-bottle. I’m talking vomit over his head, onto my arm, down my leg, onto the couch. & then he started crying.
2. He screamed the entire morning. Regardless of full belly, dry diaper, & jiggling Momma.
3. After six years, my iPod stuttered it’s final breath. RIP, original pink iPod mini. ::plays taps::
4. Dr. Hottie thinks that Harrison’s reflux is more intense than we originally thought. So Harrison is now on Prilosec, a stronger drug. With potentially a switch to soy formula next week.
5. Did I mention that insurance does not cover Prilosec?
6. Harrison got three vaccines. THEY STUCK NEEDLES INTO MY BABY TODAY. He was fine after a quick sob into my shoulder & a shot of Tylenol at 4pm. Momma, on the other hand, is still reeling from her stream of tears at seeing the dried blood on his band-aid this morning.
7. I got called into work. Yeah.
8. Where passive-aggressive behavior ruled on post-it notes.
9. We have a forecast for potential winter weather. Which meant Super Target was an EFFING MADHOUSE for milk & bread. (don’t ask, it’s a Southern thing) & all I needed was some coffee for tomorrow morning. Needless to say, we had frozen pizza for dinner. & I had a rather large shot of lemon vodka in cranberry juice. But a segway smooth like a punch to the stomach, we shall discuss something that sucks more. In a good way.
No, not that. You dirty, dirty people! Get your minds from the gutters! Perverts!!
The kind of glorious, amazing suck that only comes from a Dyson vacuum. I know first-hand the awesome that is Dyson. My mother has one, & sometimes when I’m at The Momma’s house, I volunteer to vacuum. Yes, I do have OCD tendencies that may require my children to need therapy in the future, but it’s more than being a neat-freak. THESE VACUUMS ARE INCREDIBLE. Sweet, sweet hum while they work, sucking up every little speck of dust & dead carpet-choking dog hair. Alas, I am stuck with this ol’ clunker:
Listen, Hoover. We had a good run, including several laps over your cord, which led to Nate doing quick emergency surgery with electric tape to prevent me blowing our casa into the sky. Or burning it down to the ground. Needless to say, Hoover is on life support but with that little blonde kid in the next room, affording a Dyson is laughable for the next…I dunno, 10 years. Enter in my creepy internet friend buddy Jill from BabyRabies.com. & her amazing give-away where there is potential for a Dyson to be underneath my tree in a week. PLEASE PLEASE PRETTY PLEASE, GOD. PLEASE LET ME WIN.
I promise if I win, I won’t do this to the Dyson:
Because their level of suckage deserves more respect.
