You know... I used to consider myself a pretty cute gal.
I used to at least LOOK like I had it together.
My hair was "done"..
I used to wear neatly-applied make-up.
My shirts were stain-free.
I had no wrinkles between my eyebrows. (that were neatly plucked by the way!).
I used to speak in complete sentences.
I used to leave my house.
My shoes matched.
My socks matched.
But that was before I had children.
More exactly, that was before I had TEENAGERS!
Now I look like this picture.
I have a perma-look of bewilderment and shock on my face.
I have those deep mean-looking, I'm-gonna-kill-you-wrinkles between my eyebrows.
My hair resembles Medusa more than a fashion model.
I'm wearing stretched-out yoga pants and a baggy T-shirt, Crocks on my feet, and NO jewelry.
My poor saggin-from-birthin-all-them-babies-body is slower and fatter.
My once sharp-as-a-tack mind now spends it's days wondering how in the heck I got here.
It's not time that changed me.
It's not old age settling in.
It's the Teenagers!
The teststerone-filled-snarky-farting, knowing-more-than-me-because-I-am-a-stupid-idiot, teenagers!
The teenagers who do things like THIS.
The teenagers who are convinced that I suddenly am dumber than dirt.
The teenagers who's heads are firmly planted up their girlfriends backside.
The teenagers who eat too much, drive too fast, and fart too smelly.
The teenagers who are taller than me.
The teenagers who think they can use their size as an advantage.
The teenagers who play ,what they call, music too loud.
Can I sue them?
Can I force them to fund my plastic surgery?
Can I at least make them liable for the years and years of therapy that I will most certainly need soon?
Is there a lawyer in the house?
Call me!
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3 amazing comments. Talk To Me!!:
shoot girl if you were to stop for two hours and take a bubble bath with a glass of wine. You'd probably lose the "I-am-going-to-kill-you" wrinkles, and the bewildered, shocked look. Then again they would come back when you got out and had to deal with the teens again. Can't you send them to military camp or something.
Does it help to know "it's a faze?" Albeit one that requires sedation, but a faze nonetheless. Hang in there girl!!
I think you look hot. Even with that "I am trying not to smack your little head off your neck" look on your face!
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Comments make me dance a little jig.
And that makes my children run and hide in shame.