A wife came home just in time to find her husband in bed with another woman. With super-human strength borne of fury, she dragged him down the stairs, out the back door, and into the tool shed in the back yard and put his “manhood” in a vice. She secured it tightly and removed the handle. Next she picked up a hack saw.
The husband was terrified, and screamed, “Stop! Stop! You’re not going to cut it off, are you?”
The wife, with a gleam of revenge in her eye, put the saw in her husband’s hand and said, “Nope. I’m going to set the shed on fire. You do whatever you have to.”
Last night my 14 year old son came into the room, kissed me goodnight and told me there was a note on the kitchen counter I needed to sign. Then he took off running for his room.
Have I ever told ya’ll how smart he is? He was wise to run.
I ever so sweetly called after him to come back and bring me the note. - You better get your butt back in here right now and bring me that note! -
So of course I was thinking.. he’ll be here any moment now with the note in hand. - Yeah that’s right little man.. run and hide, run and hide. -
Instead, from the distance of several rooms, a hallway and a flight of stairs, I heard a rather wimpy, “I love you Mom.. g’nite” and the slamming of a bedroom door. - Crap! I’m going to have to actually get up! -
Since I’ve become quite accustomed to getting notes from one of his teachers, having been weekly pen pals for the last three months and all, I pretty much figured out who the note was from. So I anxiously jumped up from the couch with a smile on my face and a little skip in my step, and made my way into the kitchen. - Grrr.. what in the hell has crawled up that man’s ass and died this time? Worse.. what has that child done now to tick him off? -
I was looking so forward to reading the 10 billionth pleasant little handwritten note on plain white paper I knew was waiting for me, but I couldn’t find it. - Where is my plain white paper note? No, no, no.. surely not! WTF?!? RED paper? -
It wasn’t a note at all. It was a form letter with lots of little check boxes (all empty) with offenses out beside each one. It had my son’s name on it, directly under the bold black heading that said, Notice Of Detention, and a fill in the blank line that had been completed to say, Report to school at 7am to carry out 3 day(s) of detention on 4/11, 4/12 and 4/13/2007.
- O-k-a-y! - Well that explained why he ran, but it didn’t explain why he got detention. I didn’t start to worry yet though because his teacher, being the proficient man he is at expressing himself, left me a clue. It was written slanted across the paper, very large and underlined three times in what appeared to be a black Sharpie..
“I HAVE HAD IT!”
Now I don’t know about ya’ll, but when I read that I kind of got the impression that the man was a wee bit perturbed. Obviously, this was a situation that needed to be addressed immediately and since I didn’t want to wake up the entire household, I called out to my son as quietly as I could but still loud enough to be heard. - C! GET . IN . HERE . NOW!!!”
He came dragging into the room, looking down at the floor and scratching his butt. He was trying his best to look like I had just woke him up from that sound 5 minute sleep he had enough time for.. pfft. I remained calm and in a soft spoken voice told him to tell me in his own words what had happened. - Start at the beginning! Leave NOTHING out! If you do, you WILL die before daybreak!” -
Here’s his story that came out in a couple of long run-on sentences. Needless to say, the detention is obviously deserved…
“Well you know how Mr. J gets mad if I do stuff with my teeth right? Well Z and I thought it might be funny if I put them in his desk drawer, so I did and when he opened it up, he screamed and everyone started laughing. He yelled at me to get my teeth out of his drawer and I told him I had my teeth in my mouth and then I smiled at him to show him and everyone started laughing again and I got detention. Then after class R told Z to ask me if I wanted to “go out” with her, she thinks I’m pimpin’! *insert his huge grin here*”
I suppose adding these…
… as a gag gift inside his Easter basket wasn’t so funny after all.
Okay.. others may not find this humorous, but this animation just cracks me up… and no it doesn’t take much to do that.
If you are easily offended by things like spanking the monkey, testicles, etc.. then you may not want to watch this cartoon. Actually if those things offend your delicate sensibilities then you are more than likely at the wrong blog anyway.
Do you have any idea what all can happen to your fair person, not to mention your mental well being, when you spend 30 minutes with 90+ six year old children?
Today my daughter’s school participated in Jump Rope For Heart, sponsored by the American Heart Association. The gym teacher (coach) sent letters home asking for parents to attend and help out with their child’s class.. so I went. I did not, however, know that that it would be three classes in there at a time, nor did I know that very few parents (translate: suckers for punishment) would show up to help.
It was a trip let me tell you and a truly enlightening experience. Spending time with some of those kids gave me one of those “Aha!” moments, reminding me why I don’t like their parents. Anyway.. a lot, I repeat LOT can happen to you in a short amount of time when you spend it with munchkins…
I got thrown up on, hit in the eye with a piece of popcorn, feet stepped on repeatedly, told I was various things.. mean, nice, fat, skinny, soft (lol guess that is kinda like fat), had on an ugly shirt, wrong kind of shoes, and was told I was beautiful (thank you Grant), I was bitten twice, tripped, stabbed with a pencil, turned into a coat rack (at one point I was holding no less than 20 jackets), turned into a custodian.. there were lots of Gatorade spills, called a cheater when one child insisted he jumped 6 times instead of the 3 he actually did (this kid actually threatened me and told me I better watch out because.. “I’m gonna get even with you Mrs… lady!” with fists balled up and snarl on his otherwise cute face), expelled gas on.. the boy laughed and said he was jump roping for farts, and God help me, asked to come back to help at the Valentine Party that takes place in less than an hour. Now I find myself somewhat scared, especially of “cheater boy”, wondering what may take place when they are armed with cupcakes.
Want a little advice? Never, under any circumstances, let the school know you are a stay at home mom.. you will get abused in someway or another.
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