So Mother’s Day is this weekend, right? (And for those of you who live in a cave and didn’t know this, grab a Sharpie and write it on your damn calendar in ALL CAPITAL LETTERS right freaking now!) Anyway, I’ve been dropping mad hints left and right about things the kids and hubby could possibly get for me. After all, I think I deserve a seriously bad-ass gift, given all the crap I do for everybody around here day in and day out. The problem, though, is that I have a feeling all these subliminal suggestions are falling on deaf ears.
Now don’t get me wrong — it’s not like I’m expecting diamonds or new cars or anything fancy like that. I, for one, do NOT believe every kiss begins with Kay. No, I’ve been dreaming about more practical things that don’t necessarily break the bank. For example, for three years now. I’ve been planting the seed of how much I’d LOVE to have a front porch swing. I can just picture myself swinging away with a margarita in hand as my perfectly-behaved children play nicely in the front yard. (Ok, so maybe this scene of tranquility is a tad bit far-fetched for the Nucking Futs Clan, but it’s MY fantasy, so humor me people!) So far though, no dice on the swing dream.
I’ve also been reporting any massage specials I hear being advertised on t.v. or on the radio. A professional rub down would be profoundly appreciated since I literally bend over backwards for these people 24/frickin’/7. And the only kind of massage I can get around here is when I bribe my kids with a quarter to make circles with their bony little elbows on my back. Needless to say, Mama’s muscles would be totally down with some tender loving care.
I think, but I can’t confirm, that my family is up to something though. My husband has said that he’s been working on a “project” for the past week and quickly closes his computer every time I get near it. It’s either something really cool and special, or he’s totally surfing porn. It could go either way. All I know is that I better not get a damn vacuum cleaner or lame old pots and pans cause I think I deserve better than that. I work hard for the money, dammit! Oh, wait, that’s right…I don’t get paid ANY money for this flipping job. Maybe every kiss SHOULD begin with Kay from now on….