It's been a long week. Here are some snippets of conversations in which I took part or overheard during the last few days that made me want to either punch someone in the face or just crawl back in bed:
- You have to come in 4 hours early all week for cross-training.
- Mrs. Boymom, Little Man has mono.
- Mom! The cat pooped in the tub.
- Overtime has been cancelled until further notice.
- I need to buy ammo for my Firearms class this weekend. Which bank account has any money left in it?
- Ask your husband if you can go out to dinner with me Saturday night.
- Honey, I came home and the water was turned off. Did we pay the bill?
- Your deductible is $500.
- We're out of toilet paper (screamed from the upstairs bathroom)!
- Mom! Little Man is throwing up again!
- I don't want to go back to school! I hate it and you can't make me!
- Why is there no food in the house after you just went shopping?
- The reality is that the hard workers rarely get noticed. People get noticed when they screw up or kiss the boss' butt. So you need to decide whether you are going to screw up, kiss up or just work hard with no acknowledgement.
- Quit bugging me or I will hit your spleen and make you go to the hospital (related to the mono symptoms, but I'm going to save this one for my own verbal threat arsenal. It would really throw someone off, wouldn't it?).
There were more things said that made me want to scream, but honestly, I'm too tired to try and remember them all. Feel free to share some of your irritating conversations in the comments. I could use a few laughs.
4 Comments:
ok, I feel lots better about my life now :)!
Well, I'm kinda glad to see that I'm not the only one to be hit with spam from the strange Oriental Spam Machine thingy. :) I swear, I must get a dozen comments from that thing on various posts each week.
I'm sorry you're feeling the need to punch someone in the spleen. Maybe you can just send them to clean the cat poop out of your bathtub as punishment?
This is why I love you BoyMom. You crack me up. Here's one. Apparently, I was sick of some whining that was going on because Drew came home from his 7th grade basketball game saying his wrist hurt. I told him to take some Ibuprofen and ice it. He's in 7th grade for heaven's sake, what was I supposed to do? Carry him to my bed, prop him up with a t.v. dinner and turn on the television? I suppose he thinks I didn't care because the next day at the basketball game, the coach assumed he wouldn't be playing but Drew showed up dressed out and ready to play. Coach said, "Did you tell your mom about this?" Drew's response was a classic and slightly exaggerrated. "My mom told me to ice it, take some ibuprofen and suck it up." Yep, mom of the year, right here.
I have a teenager. That is a girl. Suffice it to say, I hear things on an hourly basis that I'd rather not. And if she's at school? I'm pretty sure to receive a text message with her complaint fully logged over something or another.
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