Knittyboard Spleenventing Update

I hope you all enjoyed the previous two posts.

And now, back to the stupid crap I normally talk about.

First off, here's my Knittyboard post from yesterday so that you non-Knittyboarders may familiarize yourselves with all the pertinent information:


We got up this morning and went to the Train Museum that Tito (my youngest son) loves. The part of the museum that's really the coolest part - the whole reason why we were going - was closed because there was a school group there.

No biggie, we have a membership, we can come back another day.

I asked the kids if they wanted to go to the Zoo instead. It was agreed that that was a suitable alternative.

Then I started to think out loud. (Remind me NEVER to do this again)

I said "oh wait, there's that one place where they make the wooden trains and they have train tables and stuff, that might be fun... oh wait, I don't know if they're open or not... never mind, let me run home and get my phone real quick, then we'll go to the zoo..."

I got back in the car and was heading toward the zoo, and I heard mumbling in the back seat.

"What's the problem?"

mumblemumblewhinewhinewhisperwhisper

"WHAT???"

"I wanted to go to the other train place."

Who said it? Not my 3 year old son, the train freak. Not my 4 year old son, who likes trains too. My almost-nine-year-old daughter who has never ever shown an interest in anything train-related. I should also mention that she and I spent the entire morning together yesterday (just us girls), got makeovers and went to lunch, and she got to do pretty much whatever she wanted.

"Well, Beeb, I sure hope that going to the Zoo isn't too much of a disappointment for you..." (drip...drip...drip... hear that? it's sarcasm.)

"But I reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeally wanted to go there..."

I immediately pulled over and stopped on the side of the road and screamed "GUESS WHAT? WE'RE GOING HOME!!!"

WHAT KID BITCHES ABOUT GOING TO THE ZOO?????

I had already tried leaving the house with them earlier this morning. They were buckled in their seats and I was in the kitchen and COULD HEAR THEM FROM INSIDE THE HOUSE FIGHTING WITH EACH OTHER IN THE CAR, WITH THE CAR DOORS CLOSED AND THE DOOR LEADING FROM THE HOUSE TO THE GARAGE CLOSED. I can't imagine what the neighbors must have thought. I made them all get out of the car and wait an hour before we tried to go out again (to the place that was closed).

It seems obvious to me that we weren't meant to leave the house today. Which sucks, really. It's a beautiful day. I wish I could take the boys out and leave the Bitchlet home by herself, but she'd probably have CPS waiting for me when I got back.

I screamed at her all the way home about how sometimes you have to say (and this is paraphrased to the best of my recollection) "Hey, it's not my first choice but it beats sitting at home doing nothing. Do you think going to Club Libby Lu yesterday and getting my hair painted pink was for me? Don't you think I might like to see a movie that isn't animated every once in a while? So sometimes you suck it up and keep your trap shut and let everybody else have a good time."

She's cleaning her room right now. Little snot.

Also fuelling the emotional hurricane I'm experiencing is the fact that I haven't slept well in about a week. She should know better than to jack with me.


Well, after all that, I got a little ass-kissin from the Ape Squad. (I've just kinda started calling them The Ape Squad. I like it.)

Behold my daughter's quite impressive Junior Mind Fuck.
Kids can be so darn cute when they want you to take them to the pool.




Not bad. If I weren't so pissed off and able to see right through it, I'd be damn proud. She's clearly learned the art of the Guilt Trip from the best. Manipulation is a valuable skill. A helluva lot more valuable than freakin Baton Twirling.



And Now, Yet Another Lack Of Brilliance Moment

Remember that Grafting Nightmare I wasn't talking about? Well, today, when I picked up the EviLucy Bag to knit off some steam after the day's drama, I realized that my euphoria over completing a quasi-passable seaming of the purse's strap to its body was premature: I had somehow managed to twist the strap before grafting it and tying off the ends. Damn. The only mistake that won't felt out. And here I thought I had finally triumphed over The Kitchener.

Screw it.

My day will come, Kitchener Stitch! I will defeat you!!