Or, I should call this, how my husband tells me how to drive.
Or, how I will tell The Bloggess that it’s really weird not to care to almost get in a car accident because you see a whole parking lot full of giant metal chickens.
I guess that’s a little long and wordy for a title. I suppose the title above that is kinda long. Is it bad that I’ve almost forgotten what I’m writing about?
Oh yeah- The Bloggess is coming to Seattle for her book signing! HOLY SHNIKEY!!!! Did you hear?? THE BLOGGESS IS COMING!
And I’m going. I will bring my mini Beyonce, her book “Let’s Pretend this Never Happened”, and my 2012 Bloggess calendar.
Oh, I know, I’m going to title this- “Let’s not pretend, but that in fact, it DID happen”.
Enough with the title dammit!
The Bloggess is why I started blogging. After reading her post on “And That’s Why You Should Learn To Pick Your Battles” from last June, (probably THEE best blog ever written. You better go on over and read it so you know what the hell I’m talking about.) I discovered what blogs really are. Anyone can write a blog. But writing a blog that is fucking hilarious is a totally different story.
I appreciate all kinds of bloggers. But honestly, I want to laugh. I am passed parenting tips on how to potty train, I’m not planning a wedding, and I don’t can my own vegetables. So reading about other people’s marriages is way funnier than anything else right now.
I’m not saying that I aspire to be The Bloggess. Not at all. It was last year when my Facebook statuses were getting longer and longer. People are all like, you’re so funny, you should write a blog. Gee, okay. Twist my arm why don’t you.
So now I can tell random people around the world about my kids, my sweet and tolerant husband, my vajajay and whatever else I feel like dammit!
Recently, while driving to a party with the family, and I was driving so it’s always irritating when McSweetie is next to me saying things like, ‘don’t you want this lane?’, ‘I’d pass this guy’, or ‘are you staying behind this slow grandma?’. You get the idea. My driver’s ed teacher was less annoying.
So I’m humming along just fine, and what do I see out of the corner of my eye? GIANT METAL CHICKENS!! A whole parking lot full of them! I’d never seen so many in one place. I turn to look, when suddenly, I hear “LOOK OUT!” So I look straight ahead. And yes, indeed, the car in front of me has stopped. I gently step on the brakes and stop with PLENTY of time (plenty, dear sweet husband) and say, ‘Why are you screaming?’
McS- “You weren’t stopping!”
Me- “I totally was going to stop in time. And I did. So there.” (Okay, I didn’t say the ‘so there’ part at the end, but I was pissed!)
McS- “What were you looking at anyway?”
Me- “You didn’t see all those metal chickens at that store in the parking lot? How could you miss them? They were so colorful. I’ve never seen so many!”
McS- “I was watching the road, which is what you should’ve been doing.”
Me- “I am able to do both, thankyouverymuch.”
Well, I’m happy to report that it was Emma’s idea to stop on the way back home and get pictures of all those chickens. I’m glad we did. Oh, and I’m not sporting a new fad in makeup. There was a professional face painter at the birthday party we went to, so I didn’t want to miss out on the fun.
Dear Bloggess- I’m coming for you! I mean, I’m coming for you to sign my book.