Howdy, y'all. Sorry I've been MIA all of a sudden-posting may be a little sparse this week. The dear Mr. Floren worked 6 am-11 pm yesterday, and it's looking like that will be his schedule the rest of the week. The girls are out of school for the summer, and coincidentally have decided to quit napping this week, so it's like the perfect storm of no blogging time for Mama. Major Sadface. (I'm totally bribing them with Spongebob right now so I could deal with my overflowing email inbox and write this. I can't decide if I love or hate this show. I may end up in an institution someday singing the theme song, however.)
So I will leave you with some of my favorite tidbits from the last couple of days:
The Little One comes running up to me. "Mama, you take my dress off?"
"Why do you want your clothes off?" I asked.
"Cause I want to dance!" she answered. Like, duh, Mom.
"So, you have to be naked to dance?" I obviously asked.
"Yes, Mama! It's more fun!" she replied.
I just looked at Mr. Floren and started cracking up. "Dude, you are SO screwed. The upside to her wanting to be a naked dancer, though, is that we can spend her college fund on an European vacation...."
He was not amused. "You're not funny, Kisha. Little One, keep your clothes on!"
I had the worst headache ever last Friday. Mr. Floren had been sending me links all day to cars on Craigslist. I think he believes that if he sends me enough, I'll finally write back and be like, "Yes, dear, please go buy a third car that you don't need! Because who can have enough stupid cars? And yes, we only have a small two car garage and a small two car driveway, and three of those four spots should be filled with your obsession! You are SO right!" He is mistaken.
(original email was a link to yet another car he does not need)
RE: the car you will not be buying
To: Mr. Floren
From: Your Whiny Headachey Wife
what in the hell are you going to do with a 3rd neon? and you're too
busy to talk to me but you can browse CL? douchebag.
my head is all fucked up and I might die. just so you know. brain tumor for sure.
RE: wow, you're a real peach today, aren't you?
To: My Bitchy Wife
From: Mr. Floren
Whoa, whoa, whoa. I was just looking because I was on my lunch. And I thought you might like that one because it looks like Betsy. (my first car and quite possibly the love of my life)
If you're planning on dying from that brain tumor, can you please set out the outfit you'd like to be buried in? Because I know I'll pick something that doesn't match and that you hate, and the last thing I need is you haunting me from beyond the grave for all eternity.
RE: Well played, Mr. Floren
To: Mr. Floren
From: Your now laughing wife
You're a smart man, my dear. Love you. I retract the douchebag comment.
If that's not love, well, I just don't know what is. Have a great day friends, and I'll (hopefully) see you soon!