Screw You, Cell Phone, I Hate You.

                                     

     

Dear Cell Phone,

Who the crap do you think you are?!

I do not appreciate your presumptuous demeanor.  You have no business telling me that I should be saying or thinking something differently than I already am on a daily basis.

I also don't appreciate your rude attempts to turn clean conversation into dirty conversation.  Oh wait,  what?  You have no idea what I'm talking about?  Do you recall me saying I'm on my way to the store to buy some new pens? Yeah,  I said PENS not PENIS.

I mean, where do you get off making me look like I can't even formulate a correct sentence??!

Example:

Me: "I can't believe the doc oven by itsel. Crew."

Other Person: "Wtf?"

Me: "Ugh, no. That was supposed to say I can't believe the door opened by itself.  Creepy."

Seriously?

If I am upset,  I choose to express it. Who are you to tell me how to feel? Maybe foul language isn't always the best choice in a conversation,  but I never mean the following :

"I am so DUCKING tired of her SHOT. She totally PASSED me off.  What a DUCKING BATCH. "

No,  mother Fulkerson, I was a lot angrier than that.  And I am not sure who the help Fulkerson is!!!!!? 

OMG, not help,  HELL. 

AAAAARRRGGGHHHHH!!!

You suck.

Aside from anger,  if I am sad,  I want to let that be known as well.  If I am hurt,  the person who hurt me,  indeed,  needs to know.

When one says:

" I can't believe you right now.  You have me in years and you don't event case. "

One really means:

"I can't believe you right now.  You have me in tears and you don't even care. "

So now, the person that should feel bad for hurting my feelings is now in "years" because they are laughing so hard. Fan-friggin-tastic. 

Then there's your uncanny knack to send a text to the wrong person. What, you just bump people to the top of my messages list for no reason? I mean I was trying to tell my husband that I was looking forward to a kiss and some snuggling. My HUSBAND. 

Sorry, Dad. That was awkward.

Anyway, you just need to back off, ok? Let me decide what I'm trying to say and what kind of emotion I'm trying to project. 

If you do not complete my request, please note that your new home may be inside of a blender, an abyss of drywall, or an ocean floor. 

Thanks for being a royal pain in the asset.

ASS!

-Lauren

The Logan Chronicles: Prison Break

 On this episode of TLC, a look into the newly discovered ability to high tail it outta dodge is examined. 

I decided yesterday that it was time to decorate for Christmas so I went down to the basement to grab the decorations.  My husband rigged the gating system we have for my son and attached it to the wall so he has a ton of room to run and play instead of being confined to the UFC looking octagon. 

So far it has worked fine.

Until now.

I started to put up some Santas and glittery trees and went into the kitchen to grab another couple of items for display.  I notice while I'm in there that I hear footsteps going up my stairs....

OK, Lauren,  your losin' it,  I think to myself.  No one was even home to be trotting up the stairs....except my son.

Omg, MY SON!!!!!  wtf!!!

I no sooner thought it and heard footsteps above my head pitter-pattering around real quick-like.  I flew through the dining room,  Olympic style hurdled over the first gate then ran through the living room and gold medaled that shit over the second one and up the stairs. 

There he was,  in my bedroom and about to close the door in my face looking like he was half amused with himself and half confused by my likely bugged out eyes and inability to breathe from my quick athletic affair.  He started to sputter some baby jibberish to defend his case; I was absolutely terrified. I'm pretty sure my heart rate has never been that high in my life.

Dude...how did he get out of the living room??! I was in the kitchen a minute at best and I didn't even hear a struggle out there at all!  He had to have pre-meditited his escape,  I mean,  that took some planning and it was seriously close to ninja status. 

I was totally freaked out and wanted to know how he did it so I went in the dining room to spy. After about a fifteen seconds or so, he ran over to the gate and was doing this:

                                  

Little crazy man actually bent the damn gate almost flat so he could do some kind of a SWAT move and jet over the side! Ugh, I thought about the fact that he could have fallen down the stairs or gotten into something upstairs had I not gotten to him quick enough. I was so thankful that I had the Olympic training to reach him in time. Whew. Ok, I'm trying to make light of the situation because sometimes that's all you can do, right?!! So scary.

Strangely, he didn't try to do this again, but I'm definitley not convinced that he won't. I can't believe how smart and bigger and taller he has gotten and pretty soon he is going to be able to just step right over the gate, get married, move away and be out of my life forever!!!!! Alright, alright I'm being dramatic but that's what it feels like! I know kids climb out of their cribs and car seats and all that crap I just didn't think my son was anywhere near that stage where he was actually thinking of trying it. It just goes to show how fast these little people grow! Wish he would slow down and stay little forev.

So today I thank my son, Logan Michael, for showing me how quick your little feet and brain work!

I'm thinking a prison high fence and armed guards might be in store next for my little dude, jeez...

Love ya, bud. Thanks for the heart attack. Xoxo.