Carpe medications!

It’s just *gotta* be a good day when you wake up, covered in pee, that *doesn’t* belong to you (thank you Duke, and those lame-o UNnight-time pullups!)…..then roll outta bed to get cleaned up, *only* to learn you can’t walk – because remember yesterday? All those squats, presses, curls & extensions – so you could become the *monstrous* in-human-looking body-builder that’s inside you? Raawwwrrrr!! I mean, *ahem* (unenthusiastic) Yeaaaahhhhh.

Walk with swagger (?) to the kitchen for some sort of medication, only to continually imagine you’re being eaten alive? Oh wait. You *are* being eaten alive - by ants? Sense of déjà vu (see devil-bug post). Look down in kitchen floor to see what looks to be a ball of a furry mass, some dead animal of sorts, with black fur? Blackish fur with orangey parts? Ooooohhhhh…..like when the kids played ‘chef’ last night, & threw a buffalo wing in the floor because it was far *too* tiresome for their delicate arms to aim it at the trashcan 2 feet away? Guess they take after Byron. Ant massacre ensues.

Try to go back to bed, set down drink, then knock it outta the park (or in the hallway, at least) when I shake the new, clean blanket out. The now dirty, Dr. Pepper covered blanket. Oh, and the DP covered floor. How I’ve managed to get through all this and not say 1 foul word could only be God’s work. I’ve only been awake 15 minutes, and I can already tell….it’s gonna be a *fantabulous* day.

Think I’ll sneak out and go fishing before anyone else wakes up.

The shovel did it!

I’ve always been a sucker for animals. Like to play with ‘em, eat ‘em…they’re just all around good things to have on hand.

Recently Gracelyn’s school raised baby chicks from wee eggs, and we ended up adopting 2 of ‘em. Did we *have* to adopt them? Puh-leese. The biddies looked at me with big doe chicken eyes, and cheeped, “Pick me! Take me home to be tortured by your heathen spawn, let your dog maul me in a game of chase, and then cut my head off with a shovel, please! Me, me, me!!!!” Okay, so maybe they didn’t say the part about the dog chasing them (who are we kidding, there was never a chase when it started and ended in the dog’s mouth), but you get the vibe. They *had* to live with us.

Fast forward to a week later. Violet decided the biddies needed to stretch their legs, so to speak, and let one down on the ground outside. Next thing I know, Gracelyn busts through the door screaming that a chicken is dying. I go outside to find the biddy by a tree, all lopsided and obviously sporting new body shades...the color purple, ha! It really *was* sad for a few minutes. It was not long for this world, and I didn’t want it to suffer, so I cut his head off. Sucker. Kidding! Sort of. About the sucker part.

Its eyes were closed, but it was still breathing. I thought I’d put it in a small box in a safe place so it could at least die without kids and dogs trying to poke/chew it (Duke tried to bite the biddies heads off the first day…little Ozzy). When I tried to pick it up, it cheeped like “sucka, I would *so* peck you in the eye and flog you in your uvula if I could” and I was all “Piss. This sucks.”

It closed its eyes again, and I waited for it to die for a good 2 minutes. It didn’t happen. I thought maybe I could, um, suffocate it (oh, I feel *so* bad even typing that) if I just held it’s beak-hole shut. It seemed like it was going well, until it’s eyes flew open and it struggled and I just couldn’t do it. It was a flipping baby biddy, suckas!

I asked Byron for a gun, to blow it into oblivion, but he wouldn’t load it for me. I told him to kill it, and he refused to hurt an animal, especially a baby one, and that it was *all* my fault for adopting them in the first place. What a flipping girl.

In the end, it was the flat shovel. I held it above the neck with, asked the good Lord to forgive me, and slammed it down with my foot. Done. And then I remembered (from my childhood), when you cut a chicken’s head off, they run.,,, except this one just turned in circles. He was *slightly* handicapped. Then I laughed.

Obviously God has a sense of humor, because that? Was funny stuff.

On another note... Did you know if you spit on an electric fence and the spit hits the wire, at the same time you realize it's still falling from your lip, you get electrocuted? Well, now you do. But that story's for next time.

That’s hoodoo for ya! (08.05.08)

Apparently Smartie is feeling neglected these days, although I don’t see how. She comes to work with me at some point every day (without her siblings). I haven’t been blatantly ignoring her, that I’m aware of. Guess she had other ideas.

In my house, I’m happy when the kids are quiet. Yes, I know in the back of my mind that they must be up to something, but I lie and tell myself they’re little angels. I checked in on Smartie in her room. She was coloring and watching a movie. Awesome! Cookie’s playing with Peabody. Check! CoolTeen’s in his room with his friend. 3 in a row. Woohoo!

I decided to make some chicken and vegetable soup – just what I’ve been craving lately. I know it’s been 100+ degrees every day in Texas, but I still wanted soup. Hey – I’m not making you eat it, so shove it.

Back to Smartie. I’m waiting for the soup to finish, and she strolls out with some scissors and hands them to Peabody. Unusual for her, since she lives to cut paper up in a billion pieces. Guess she was trying to hit a new high, and instead decided to mangle her hair. As you can imagine, lovely was the first word that came to my mind (right after holy hell). If she could’ve picked a more perfect way to cut it though, I’d be stunned. She actually did a pretty good job. She cut all the long bangs and hair on one side, so it looks like it’s layered. Fortunately she still has some hair left and looks decent.

Then I notice she’s not wearing underwear. That always leads to something good and decent, right? Not in my house. I’m informed that she was too busy cutting her hair to stop and get to the potty, so she just peed in place. Really? So nice of you. So polite. Where did you go to finishing school? Who has time to piss these days anyhow? Not me.The only thing she was lacking was a chicken foot, and she would’ve had a hoodoo gig set up.

Watch your chickens, people.