I Heart My Little A-Holes (11 page)

1. This holiday literally makes bad couples stay together. Like when I was young and dating I distinctly remember not breaking up with someone because Valentine’s Day was in like 8 days. Awww shit, I can’t dump his ass now. It’s almost V-Day and that’d just be mean. Plus, then I’d be alone on V-Day. And of course, then he bought me an expensive piece of jewelry that I had to accept because he didn’t know I was going to dump him later that week, which I couldn’t do now because he bought me an expensive piece of jewelry.

2. This holiday also does the complete opposite and makes people break up because the pressure is just too much. Like once I made this jackass cookies for V-Day and he gave me the whole “I don’t think we should be
that
serious” speech. WTF? Is it because I made them heart-shaped? Cupid’s like the only other F’ing shape there is for this stupid holiday, so you’d rather me give you a naked baby? What kind of message does that send?

3. Dear Parents, please have your kids sign their name on 17 cards and bring them into school this Friday. And please plan on staying at school for a few minutes to help your kids put them in the mailboxes. And please no candy. So here’s what I have to say about that. A. V-Day cards are like the size of a post-it note, so getting my 4-year-old to write her name that small once, much less 17 times, is like crazy impossible. B. I take three showers a week. So when you make ME sign and stuff 17 cards because my kid was more interested in playing with a box of tampons, basically you’re taking away one of my showers. Which isn’t good for anyone. C. Does this mean my kid is bringing home 17 cards? They better be recyclable because F that shit coming into my house. D. No candy?! Then WTF am I supposed to steal from my kid?

4. Guess who else hates Valentine’s Day. Van Damme, Vin Diesel and The Rock. Guess who else. Every other guy on this planet. Because I’ll tell you what movie isn’t being watched on February 14
^th
. Anything with even a hint of an explosion. But guess what is being watched. That movie where Meryl Streep joins a book club where they all look at their vajayjays in handheld mirrors until she bumps into some Italian schmuck and they fall in love and make love under a covered bridge in Madison County. Yes, I made that shit up, but aren’t all chick flicks basically that?

5. Ohhhh honey, let’s eat at that restaurant we love for Valentine’s Day. I’ll make reservations. HOSTESS: Two for dinner? Lovely. We have openings at 4pm or 11pm but we don’t actually open until 5 and you have to leave by 11:15. So you end up at F’ing Chilis sharing an oh-so-romantic awesome blossom. Awesome.

6. You know all that shit they sell for V-Day presents like boxers and socks and t-shirts with hearts all over them? There’s no better way to waste your money. Because there is only one day a year you can wear that shit. On Valentine’s Day. You can’t even wear it the week leading up to V-Day because you know you want to wear it on V-Day itself and that festive shit is so obvious everyone will notice you wore the same thing twice in one week and they’ll think that’s gross even if you washed it. Unless you wear a sign that says
I washed it,
but that’s just weird.

7. Red, pink and purple do not go together. They F’ing clash. But for some reason everyone pretends like they do on V-Day. Even though they DON’T.

8. As if V-Day didn’t suck enough when you were single, it’s practically worse when you’re married because you’re all like, seriously, I just paid like 9 million dollars for Christmas presents and now I have to buy more presents? So you and your spouse agree that you’re not going to spend more than $20, which actually sucks even worse because do you know how hard it is to find something romantic for $20. This is the reason I have a closet downstairs filled with shit like a Slanket and a lap desk.

9. Great, another holiday that’s all about eating crap. I know people are all like whatevs, it’s only one F’ing day a year, but it’s not one F’ing day. Because every day it’s some holiday or some birthday or a holiday because it’s someone’s birthday (ahem, Jesus) or a birthday party with cake to celebrate a birthday that’s four days later when there will also be cake to eat on the actual birthday. And V-Day might be the worst because A. Most of it is chocolate which is irresistible and a sin to throw away. And B. I have to bite like every piece until I find the one that’s filled with caramel and I even eat that nasty one with the gross pink stuff inside.

10. I remember when my hubby and I started dating and we’d write like a whole novel in our thoughtfully picked out V-Day cards. Like we had to write on both sides of the card and even the back sometimes and draw an arrow to tell you to turn the card over. Duh, in case you didn’t realize “I love the way you” wasn’t the end of the sentence. And then as we dated longer, it shrank into a shorter paragraph. And then by the time we were married, it was like “I love you, xoxoxox, Love, me.” And now that we have kids we just buy the first card we pick up in the store and scribble “Love, me” on it. I’m pretty much thinking that by the time we’re 80 we’re just going to sign our cards with a single dot.

Seriously? Are you kidding me? My kids are finally both sleeping through the night so of course it’s time to F with their schedule. Time to change the stupid clocks AGAIN. Here’s what I think about Daylight Savings Time:

1. At first I have to run it through my head— Spring forward, Fall back—so this time we set the clocks forward. Wait, is that a good thing? And then I remember it’s never a good thing anymore. It was good when I was single and partying and we got an extra hour of sleep in the Fall, but now I’m a parent and they both SUCK ASS.

2. Yeah, I know it’s going to seem awesome tomorrow morning when I look at the clock and it’s 7AM and neither kid is up yet, but it’s total bullshit. Because tomorrow night when I’m trying to put the kids down for bed at 7:30, it’s really only 6:30, and it’s gonna be like they downed 6 Red Bulls and three 5-Hour Energies right before getting tucked in. Does anyone know where I can buy some of those restraining straps they have at mental hospitals because I’m going to need some to keep them in bed?

3. I love walking through the house the next day and trying to figure out which appliance is modern enough to change on its own and which ones I need to change manually. And by love I mean hate.

4. And of all the ones I have to change manually, when I hold the button down does it scroll through the numbers quickly or does it tick…by…one…at…a…time…until…you…. want…to…kill…yourself? So finally you just start pressing the button over and over again really fast and want to kill yourself again when you accidentally go past the number you meant to stop at.

5. And then you’re playing downstairs with the kids in the playroom a few days later and there are twenty minutes until naptime, until suddenly you realize the clock you’ve been looking at was never changed. Aggggh! It’s like 40 minutes PAST naptime! Which explains why your kids are such cranky a-holes and why they’ll be cranky later today too when you have to wake them up so they don’t sleep too late and ruin their bedtime.

6. Maybe I’m an idiot, but why is it so crazy hard to change the clock in the car? (yeah, that makes sense, turn OFF the power to change it. WTF???) So for weeks you don’t change it and every time you look at it you just add an hour in your head. And then one day you get to school a little early and you use the time you’re waiting to finally change the clock, only every time you look at the clock from now on you keep adding an hour to it because now it’s a habit. So A. You think you’re always running late. And B. You’re totally wasting valuable brainpower (hysterical that I spelled brainpower wrong the first time) by doing unnecessary math.

7. I’ve heard that Daylight Savings still exists for the farmers. Now I’m all for farmers, but F that. I mean how many farmers are in this country? Now how many parents are there? We win.

1. I don’t want to wipe a single ass all day. I think all kids should have to hold in their poop in on Mother’s Day. Now that would make it special.

2. I want brunch. But not with the whole frigging family. I want brunch with my other mommy friends. See ya, rug rats. Mommy’s coming back drunk on laughter and bloody marys.

3. I want to sleep in. But not with my hooligans shouting “MOMMYYYYYY!!!” at the top of their lungs and ramming one of those giant cannon thingies into the door to bust inside. To all the hubbies reading this: when the rugrats wake up, take them outside immediately. Not downstairs. OUTSIDE. That’s right, scoop them up in a football hold and rush them out the door. I’m F’ing serious. Change their diapers and their clothes on the front lawn if you have to. Just don’t let them wake my ass up.

4. I want a card. But not a stupid Hallmark card. I want one of those awesome homemade ones made with macaroni. Only I want the macaroni cooked and poured into a bowl and covered with a delicious cream sauce and paired with a giant bottle of red wine.

5. Jewelry jewelry jewelry. Unless it’s one of those stupid necklaces made with cheap plastic beads. None of that shit. Unless Tiffany’s is suddenly selling overpriced plastic bead necklaces. That can be returned for money. Because I don’t want to exchange it and the only thing I can afford is a stupid ass pen or a keychain.

6. I want you to cook breakfast for me. In someone else’s kitchen.

7. I want to pee and poop alone. I will prepare for the day by downing a tanker truck full of liquid and eating ridiculous amounts of fiber.

8. I want chocolate. But not just any ole chocolate. I want the kind that someone has taken a fat Sharpie to and blacked out the F’ing calorie section.

9. I want a good present. Like one I’ll really like. It’s not the thought that counts. It’s MY thought that counts. And my thought should not be WTF?

10. I want ten “Leave me the fuck alone” coupons with no expiration date.

Okay, so I really hoped Mr. Baby Sideburns would write something for Father’s Day, but that F’er is so lazy he never got around to it. And by lazy I mean going to work every day so he can put food on the table that my kids won’t eat. And coming home every night to put the kids in the bathtub and shit like that because I’ll tear my hair out and cut my ears off if I have to spend another second with my little love muffins.

Anyways, what I’m trying to say is that he’s an awesomely amazing father and while I’m probably not going to give him any of the following because I got him this totally kickass keychain that says “I am Fartacus
,
” if I asked him what he really wants for Father’s Day, this is what I imagine he would say:

1. I want an hour on the toilet. I know you think my man chair is that ugly recliner in the living room that looks like a piece of doodie (your words not mine), but it is not. The toilet is my throne. And I want to sit there uninterrupted until I’ve got ring-around-the-tush, until a hemroid (spelled the way it should be) is popping out, and until I’ve made a turd that’s big enough and worthy enough to take a picture of with my phone so I can send it to my friends.