Potty Mouth

Ok, I will just admit it.  My one and only flaw as a mother is that I have a potty mouth.  Ha!  Ok, I had a hard time even typing that with a straight face.  Let me start over.  One of my MANY flaws as a mother is that I have a potty mouth.  Bad.  Really bad.  I mean like really f$%@-ing bad.  I have tried to control it, I really have.  I am actually a fairly educated woman, with a vast knowledge of the English language, and yet, I still fall back on those naughty words.  Usually right in front of my children.  I know.  I'm totally f@$#-ing awesomely bad-a$$.

Sometimes, however, this totally comes back and bites me in the, ummm... butt.  Like, for instance this evening....

Allow me to set the scene.  We are having a lovely family dinner, sitting around the table, laughing and enjoying each other's company.  I decide afterwards that the kids can have popsicles for dessert.  I go to the garage, grab a handful, and tell the Goombas to pick their color.  "Orange!" says Mario.  "Red!" says Luigi.  "Pink!" says Peach.  I cut open the little plastic popsicle holders, and hand them to the kids.  Meanwhile, Peach's chair has been scooted too far away from the table, and none of us noticed.  I'm sure she probably asked  nicely 3 or 4 times, for us to push her in, but we were all absorbed in whatever other conversation we were having.  Finally, my darling little princess starts yelling, "Sh!t, Sh!t, Sh!t, Sh!t!!!!"  It took about 8 sh!ts before Bowser and I looked at each other like, "Wait, what is she saying?  No.  It can't be.  I think she is saying..."  "Sh!t!!!" Peach yells.  I could not even look my husband in the eyes.  Oh yes, she is her mother's daughter.

Alas, Peach is not the only child who has picked up on my nasty habit.  When Mario was about 3 years old, Bowser and I were having a small tiff.  When I am "tiff-ing" with someone, I like to use the f-bomb to solidify my points.  So, I dropped one here and one there.  The next thing I know, Mario is asking, with his sweet little toddler voice, for Mommy to "please make me a f-ing sandwich."  Bowser walked out of the room on that one and left me to deal with it all by myself.  What does a mom do?  I'll tell you what, I made him his f-ing sandwich and filed the moment into the "awesome forever memory" section of my brain.

Oh, and don't think that Luigi didn't follow suit.  Keep in mind that I found out I was expecting Peach when Luigi was a tender 6 months old.  I was pregnant, tired, very sick and annoyed with everything for nine months.  So, of course, when Luigi finally started speaking at about 2 years old, one of his first (and favorite) phrases was, "Oh, dammit!"  When he would drop something, "Oh, dammit!"  When he would fall, trip, or otherwise hurt himself, "Oh, dammit!"  When he didn't like what I made for dinner, "Oh, dammit!"

...sigh...

Hey, my pretty little @$$ never claimed to be f%&$-ing perfect, d@mn it!  But, I am freakin' working on it...

F-ing Cheers!
~Daisy

Happiness Is...

Now, I know I have said this before.  But, really, there was a time in my life when I really, really, really couldn't wait to move as far away from my parents as possible.  Boy, was I STUPID!  When Bowser and I were married, I did, in fact, move far, far away from the Zaz and the Pop.  And now I miss them every single day. 

Today, however, I happy to announce that I am HOME!!!!  Home where my Mommy and Daddy can take good care of me and Bowser and the Goombas.  Everyone is so happy!  When we arrived yesterday afternoon, after a very LONG car trip across a very BORING state, Zaz had the pool waiting for the Goombas and Papa had cold beer in the cooler waiting for Bowser and me.  Does life get any better? 

The Goombas played, and then promptly passed out, with grins on their faces at bedtime.  Bowser and I hung out on the party patio with the 'rents and shared laughs.  It just feels so good to be home. 

This morning, I didn't even hear the Goombas wake up.  Would you like to know why?  Because my dear, sweet, kind parents let them snuggle in their bed and they left the door to our room closed.  I slept til 9:15!  9:15!!!!  When was the last time that actually happened???  I'll give you a clue.  It was sometime pre-Goomba. 

Ok, I will admit.  It is not absolutely perfect here.  The heat is crazy and the humidity feels a little bit like a sauna.  Bowser wanted to wrap his head in a towel and wear a short bathrobe outside to illustrate the point.  But, I don't care.  I'll take the sweat, the heat, the damp air.  Because I am home with my Mommy and Daddy!!!

There are just so many, many reasons to love being at Zaza and Papa's house.  Here are just a few...

1--The beer flows like wine.  Literally.  Well, ok, not "literally."  But, for real, the cooler is always, always full.  It. Is. Awesome.

2--As Mario put it this morning, "There is always meat here, and every day it gets better and better!"  Yes, there is always meat here.  Good meat.  Not the cheap crap I buy because of our budget.  Yum. 

3--As I have said before...  the Zaz and the Pop spend time with the kiddos.  Which, in turn, means that Bowser and I get help.  Which means instead of us being outnumbered 3-2, we now outnumber them, 4-3.  Really, the advantage is much in our favor. 

4--For some reason, there is magic in Zaza's world.  My Goombas become polite, helpful, normal children.  It's some kind of phenomenon that I can't really figure out.  She gives them a skittle every time they do something helpful or nice.  If I did that at home, they would attack me, one of them would grab the jar of skittles while the other two tied me up, and all I would hear is sugary laughter coming from some hidden place in the house.  I do not understand how she does it.  Can I just live here forever?

I would love to tell you more, but Zaza just announced that there is more delicious meat to eat and more beer to be drankin'.  Is that a word?  Do I care?  No way, 'cause we are the Land of the Zaz and the Pop, where it is sunshine and rainbows and happiness.

Have a wonderful 4th of July! 

Cheers!
~Daisy