We have ants.
In case you are new around House O Samurai, well, folks who've been around a while know I hate the little bastards with the fire of a thousand suns. Come payday, we'll take care of the situation, but that leaves me with two days of creepy-crawly skin, dunking ant-covered things in hot water, and teaching the Goober words she really, really shouldn't know yet.
Son. Of. A. Bitching. Mother. Fuckers.
Could Sekhmet eat the ants? NO. Because she is fucking evil and unhelpful, the fucking furbag. All she does is lay in sunbeams and CHEW ON MY BACK DOOR.
I had a photo to upload here, but there's some fucktastic fucking fuckup between my phone, Flickr (A PAID FOR ACCOUNT, COULD IT WORK PLEASE?) and Blogger. So, well, fuck. Fuckers.
As if I was not neurotic and flat-out crazy enough, today we started swimming classes for the Goober. The Red Cross does "water safety" (they don't do swimming lessons any more, insert eye roll here) at the local high school every quarter and I can sign up through our very excellent Recreation Committee. I thought I had to get in the pool with the Goob, so I showed up in a bathing suit, royally pissed off. Turns out I DIDN'T have to get in the pool, and I amused all the other parents with "Yippee!"
Along with five certified Red Cross teachers, they had two kids from the high school who were certified as life guards, also hanging around. One of the kids spent his time wrapping little kids in towels and catching them when they slipped. It was really cute. I wanted to find his mother, give her a high five, and tell her job well done.
It turns out I am not a helicopter parent. (You know, one who hovers all the time.) I had worried about this, what with the Goob and I spending so much time together. But, no, the kids went off to swim, and I was like "Right! Have fun!" and was out in the hall drinking soda and Tweeting. All the other parents sat in the bleachers and watched every move. This goes on at Karate, too: Parents sit in bleachers and watch like it's a performance instead of a class. I do not get this. Maybe because the parents don't see their kids all day like I do, so they feel the need to watch them in lessons? I dunno. Karate or swim, you may find me out in the hall, texting and playing Bejeweled and drinking soda.
All these stupid painkillers I take? Turns out when I'm eating sensibly and have a negative caloric intake, I get loopy. Dizzy, sarcastic (er), like that. Don't know exactly what's going on, but I'm going to try to enjoy it, since I can't really fix it. (Fixing it means eating constantly, and I really don't need the Boobs of Doom to expand further.) Brace yourselves for some crazy blogging.
Yes, it strikes me that this is a fine time to review VK. Cheers?