I signed up to contribute brownies to sell at Son's swim meet tonight before I realized that Son has a baseball game and, therefore, will not be attending the swim meet but couldn't cross my name off the Contribution list because there were other Swim Team Moms standing around the list at practice last night and I did not want to look like an ass. Daughter has agreed to bake brownies in exchange for permission to avoid baseball game and go to a friend's house.
Conversation from two minutes ago:
Daughter: Mom, I can't make brownies. We don't have butter.
Me: Fiiiiiiiiiine. I'm going to the store in a minute to get butter.
Daughter: Can you just pick up some brownies while you're there?
It’s us, but in dead animal form. But not really dead because they weren’t ever alive. Undead? No. That makes them sound like vampires. So not that. Fuck. I don’t know the word. Hey, how long can a title be? Because this seems excessive. Someone should stop me. Jesus. This is as bad as 280-character twitter.
1 day ago