Irrational fear is when you push aside a hairball from the shower drain and then spook yourself with it two minutes later. Bonus points if you forget about it and scare yourself again after a few more minutes.
Despite lingering economic woes, my forehead continues to pursue its aggressive expansion agenda. Analysts believe that the forehead's success is based on its ability to make infill acquisitions in areas that had previously been dominated by its main competitor, the hair group, which has been hit by massive layoffs.
First, mommy should under no circumstances fill a brightly colored cup with whipped cream, sugar, carmel, mocha, and coffee, drink about two-thirds of it, and then leave it within climbing distance. Second, you never, ever, ever want to be anywhere near a toddler that has drunk a third of a cup of coffee. Ever. Third, coffee is a fairly effective diarrhetic.
How come anytime someone smells something gross, they smell it more? *sniff* "What's that smell?" *sniff* *sniff* "Do you smell that? It smells gross." Then everyone in the room starts to breathe deep. WTF is that?
I mentally weigh the cost of traveling against my free-floating economic anxiety multiplied by the square root of how much I have to pay in taxes divided by whether or not I think the world ends in 2012. It's hard to say where the math ends up.
I ask, "What are your favorite foods?" He says, "I like cauliflower and broccoli. Yum!" I ask, "Then what are your least favorite foods?" With a scrunched up, icky look on his face, he replies, "Vegetables."
Every now and then do you decide to clean out your handbag? Do you then discover that you could lend a pen to every man, woman, and child living in your whole town if they happened to go to a community meeting without one? Does it then prey upon your mind that if you were arrested on suspicion of shop-lifting at the local newsagent that you wouldn't be able to explain the logic of why you actually have about 25,000 Staedtler medium point blue biros in your bag?
Things that I've learned about boxing gloves since taking them home to three boys ages 3, 5, and 7...A boxing glove is heavy enough to knock over and break expensive glass decor. The noise of glass breaking can be heard by a mother four rooms away with a blender on and NPR cranked loud enough to hear over the blender, or so it would seem.
I am asking—no, begging—you to come up with a Houseguests Be Gone spray. I think it would make a lovely addition to your fine family of products. It would also make my year. I don't care about the scent. It can be fish butt musk or banana cream skunk. It really doesn't matter. As long as it makes guests sniff the air and exclaim, "Gee! I must be hitting the road."
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