Sunday, May 26, 2013

27 Ways Cats Are Like Teenagers . . .Part 1

27 Ways Cats are Like Teenagers: Part 1

"How can I impress upon you how much I REALLY don’t care?"

Squirting them in the face with water to reverse a bad habit rarely works.

"LMMTC (Let me make this clear):  I am better/smarter/cooler than you."

Often hiss when you touch them. 

"Sometimes I just go bat-crazy.  Mostly because everything bores me.  And because of  your incessant need to be up in my bizness."

Like for you to leave food out for them all the time.

“It doesn’t constitute an emergency unless it pertains to me.”'t+care

Could sleep 20 hours a day.

Like to sit on the kitchen counters and hoods of cars.

“I’ve got an idea. How ‘bout I act like I don’t know you?”

Are unemployed.

“You do NOT own me.”

"You can touch me WHEN I want, WHERE I want, and to what DEGREE I want.  When I’m done, I will let you know."

Never know where they are.

Rarely communicate.

When they do, they barely open their mouths.

Live for revenge.

When you return from a trip, they think/say, “Oh . . . you were you gone?”

Denial is their favorite pastime.

After breaking stuff, act like nothing is unusual when human slaves get home.

Do not like bringing in groceries. 

Wish they had thumbs/more thumbs.

"I am not sorry for what I (allegedly) did, and I have no regrets."

Cone of shame doesn't work.

"If something unusual happens while you are gone, it is not my fault.  And I plan to do it again tomorrow."

Have incredible skills at things that won't make any money.

Will often pin you down and fart on your head.

Sunday, May 12, 2013

Kids Are Bored? Maybe a Schedule...yeah

Kids Are Bored?  Maybe a Schedule...Yeah

Recently, at Longhorn with the family, I pulled out my credit card to pay since hubs forgot his wallet.

“How are YOU gonna pay, Mom?” my kids heckled.  “It’s dad’s money!” 

“I have money too,” I said.

“Yeah, all the money you make from JOURNALISM??”

That’s funny coming from the unemployed.  Although blood pooled in my eyeballs, I handled it well.  With my iPhone, I simply Googled, and handed it to my daughters to fill out while we paid.

There are certain things my kids say that make me go postal, including their summer mantra, “I’M BORED!”

To avert their boredom, I’m being proactive and ordering my teenagers to devise a weekly summer schedule.

I imagine this is a schedule many high school kids would concoct:

First week of June:  Complain about how mom is so lame for forcing me to call people and talk to them on the phone.  When would I ever need to do that in real life?  

Second week of June:  Complain about how mom always comes in my room.  Why can’t she leave me alone?   I’ll let her know when I need money or new noise-canceling headphones to drown out the sound of the vacuum cleaner.

Third week of June:  Research location to buy illegal fireworks/beer for fourth of July party.  Hide illegal items by moving them every day to the houses of different friends who are allegedly not invited to the party I am allegedly not having.  
Fourth week of June:  Ask dad if I can take the boat out on Pickwick Lake with a group of friends the night of July 4th to watch fireworks. 

First week of July:  Take boyfriend on boat ALONE the night of July 4th to watch fireworks. 

Second week of July:  After Pickwick incident, research methods to bypass our home security system in order to sneak out of house after being grounded until the first day of school.

Third week of July:  Go on stupid vacation with stupid family to a stupid condo without internet.  Beg to fly back home alone two days early to start a vague summer project I forgot about for school.  Host a totally legit party for 175 Twitter friends at my house before parents return.

Fourth week of July:  Start two-a-day soccer practices.  In between practices, clean garage and our 172-degree attic on account of the recent “parents were gone and police arrived” family meeting.

First week of August:  Gripe about how parents should’ve made me work out this summer because of having to run sprints on a soccer field that has more gravity on it than last year.

Second week of August:  Shop online with mom’s credit card at for new school clothes I can’t wear to school.  Pay more for expedited shipping than the clothes cost because I wasted valuable shipping time researching “Clothes That Work It, Girl!” on Pinterest.

Third week of August:  Start school.  Take new clothes purchased on internet with mom’s credit card to Plato’s Closet for cash.

On second thought, I want to ensure that my kids are too busy to engage in devious summer activities.  I’m heading to Taco Bell for a chalupa, so maybe I’ll have a few words with the manager.