This Full House Archive

Tag: hell in a cell

  • Everybody Was Fast Food Fighting…HAH!

    I came home from dropping the kids off at school, this morning (a.k.a. the land of the carpool lanes from h.e.double.hockey.sticks) and found this propped up against one of the kitchen chairs.

    TFH Chore List

    My poor husband, Garth [not his real name] obviously, he's sick (and tired) of coming home and, well, let's just say, the kids have developed a bad case of daddy deafness and, sadly, showing signs of dain bramage, too.

    "Pick up your clothes…what clothes…the clothes that are lying in front of your bed…what bed…"

    [cue head explosion]

    It's amazing, really, how quickly, a person's head can explode, I mean.

    The ironic thing about all this is NOW I am the one…sitting in the driveway…just waiting, for whenever I think it's safe to come into the house, or until daddy's head explodes.

    "Hi…um…what's for dinner?"

    [three, two, one]

    "HOT DOGS, OKAY?!?!?!?"

    Absolutely. 

    "Mmmmmm, sounds good!"

    Relax.  They were 100% beef.  Still.  I thought it would be fun to write a little song about fast food (i.e. better than doing the laundry) because, you know SOMEONE is bound fight me on this one:

    (more…)

  • Parenting Tip #2,100,382:
    Always Learn the Rules, So You Can Break Them Properly

    Lama Lama

    I'm a BIG believer in Karma — what comes around goes around, you get what you give and all that — it's simple, easy to remember and exactly the sort of logic required, to help ward off a sixth sense for getting myself into trouble,.

    In other words, I am very capable of making an asshat out of myself, without anyone's help…thankyouverymuch, Mr. Dalai Lama!

    For example:  Wednesday – I wrote a post, on my shopping blog, about raising free spirits and teaching my girls to embrace their own sense of style.

    KARMA…KARMA…KARMA…BAM!

    Then, yesterday morning, I got home, saw the red light blinking on the answering machine and thought about, you know, ignoring it.

    I mean, it could have been HGTV.

    "Congratulations, you've been chosen as the winner of Green Home 2010!"

    Probably not.

    "Uh, hi, Mom, it's me, Glen…"

    [wince]

    "…um…well…uh…I'm in the principal's office…"

    Seriously?

    "…I got in trouble for wearing my wrestling t-shirt."

    Yesterday, my son was sent to the principal's office for "inappropriate" attire and, well, I kinda, sorta KNEW that he was breaking the dress code and, you know, sent him to school, anyway.

    "Are they gonna let you wear
    that shirt?"

    I wish I could say it was a rebellious need to question the school's authority in deciding what my kids should eat, drink and/or wear — although, I sometimes do think folks are getting a little, you know, militant about that sort of stuff — rather than, admit it was a simple attack of mommy brain.

    "Yeah, I wore it to school lots of times."

    Honestly, I guess I was just feeling really tired of arguing (ALL THE TIME) and, well, we were already late for our carpool.

    "Fine."

    Besides, it's about time my kids started accepting responsibility for their actions and, well, maybe even I can learn how to quit blaming myself, for every little thing they do wrong, right?

    [beep]

    Odd.  He hung up.  Oh, well…look, there's another message…maaaaaaaybe…

    "Um…I forgot…you need to come to school and bring me a new shirt!"

    D'oh…shuddup Dalai Lama…stupid HGTV!,

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