The Cure for Boredom

Jr took one look at this Christmas Morning and exclaimed that Santa MUST be real! Either that or it was Mommy and Daddy. Just can’t pull any fast ones around that kid.

Who wants their stockings stuffed? I DO.

This is the first and ONLY picture like this that I’ve successfully taken. All the other ones came out blurry no matter how still I stood. It’s cool how it looks like our tree is on fire.

The true meaning of Christmas for atheists. Happy Thursday!

Evil Cat says “Meowy Christmas? That’s it, when you go to sleep tonight I’m chewing your nose off.”

Jr’s gift from Nana. This is what happens when you send gift cards from the Evil Empire every fucking year.

GROOOOOOVY, MAN.

Both boys got one of these from Santa. Apparently, Santa hates my guts. See the sword tip sticking out from under The Captain’s shirt? Maybe Santa should have brought him a scabbard instead.

My gift from Hubby. Apparently, Hubby loves me more than I realized. Who else would essentially give his wife to another man? RAWR.

I hope everyone who reads this drivel had a wonderful Christmas.

Eventually I’m going to blog about the clusterfuck that was the Christmas Parade.  It may be Easter by then but it’ll get done.  I subbed at the high school today, enjoy these little brain nuggets.

“Elvis was big and fat when he died.  He stole everything he knew from Chuck Berry, man!”

“You ever use one of those iPhones?  I used one this weekend and it had this application where you can play part of a song and it will tell you other songs it sounds like, right?  So I farted on the phone and shook it up and it said my fart sounded like ‘P.Y.T’ by Michael Jackson.”

“I can do the splits!  Well, I can’t open my legs but I can go down.”

“Oh no, Mrs. Warcry, I didn’t mean it like that.  I was talking about a cat.”

“Did you see that guy who threw his shoes at Bush?  Man, the first time I saw it I thought it was Kanye West”.  Me:  That sounds like something Kanye would do, he hates everyone.  “Kanye West hates everyone but Kanye West.  He even said he was Jesus!”

“Shut up!  Women cheat way more than men!  They just don’t get caught because they’re PROS.”

Every year the scouts sell popcorn as their main fundraiser.  This helps pay for things like camp outs (expensive for Boy Scouts, not so much for Cubs) and the Pinewood Derby for Cub Scouts (for the trophies, mainly).  While selling popcorn is usually easier than, say, compared to magazines or candy bars, picking up the goods, dividing them amongst the dens and getting your order home complete seems to be beyond us.  Add to that my Saturday morning was already full and you have a typical Warcry clusterfuck.  Here’s a run-down of last Saturday:

Okay, it’s only 8:30 and the truck won’t be here until 9…time to get a biscuit!

8:55…Hmmm, why am I the only one here?  *Riiiing!* You’re running late?  Okay, I can sit here for 30 minutes.

9:30 Call Hubby to see if The Brothers had arrived yet.  Remind him to take Jr to basketball practice at 10.

10:05 trucks arrive.  Fuck.

10:05-10:15 Unload truck.

10:16  Start organizing product by den.  “Okay, I need three circles, 2 stars and 1 oval.  Oh yeah, and a case of rectangles!  No no, that’s not my table, that’s Den 3’s table.”  Hubby calls me to let me know he is NOT liking taking the rest of the boys to the builder clinic.  I giggle as I hear a cacophony of hammers and squealing kids in the background.

10:50  My table is done, I’ve triple-checked it and I have EVERYTHING on my master list.  Three den leaders help me load my stuff into the back of the truck.

11:00 Pick up Jr from basketball practice.

11:10  Get home and unload truck.  Begin sorting popcorn by scout.  Realize that I’m missing two stars and a diamond plus a Christmas tree was supposed to be an oval.  FUCK.

11:30 Discover that the oval was on the scout’s order but wasn’t dropped down to the main tally.  My error.  Still have no idea who has my two stars.  Money is due on Dec 1st.

Tuesday:  Deliver the Christmas tree to extermination guy; says he doesn’t care as the dollar amount is the same.  This makes me happy.

Today:  Suffering from a sinus headache.  Talked to three den leaders, none of them have any extra stars.  Cubmaster and family out of town for the holiday.  Am now stressing if The Captain will lose goodies earned because a big chunk of his order never materialized.  FUCK!!!

You can keep your ass at home.  We had another altercation with The Hellion yesterday; apparently Jr ran into her bright pink battery operated bike.  In retaliation, Hellion pushed over his bike and kicked it hard enough to break the thumb lever that changes the gears.  Since this bike is officially MY bike (the one I won at a raffle that I was too lazy to blog about) I decided to call her mom to see about having it replaced.  Once I get mom on the phone and tell her what happened she retorts by saying Jr needs to pay for Hellion’s bike because he rammed into her and knocked it over, scratching it.

Okay bitch, it’s ON.

I calmly explain that while a scratch is a horrible thing (turns out Jr did it on purpose) her bike will still function fully; my bike, on the other hand, can no longer switch gears.  Hellion’s mom then goes on to say how Hellion complains about how horrible the two boys that come over in the afternoons are to her, starting arguments and saying mean things to her.  Oh WOE IS FUCKING ME, WOMAN.  Obviously, this woman hasn’t heard the charm that has poured forth from her daughter’s mouth.  After accusing the brothers of being instigators (yeah, right) she then says that Hellion feels the need to “stick up for herself” because she’s surrounded by boys, all of them except The Captain being bigger than her.

Captain Destructo is taller than Younger Brother, btw, and I’m pretty sure Jr and Hellion are close in weight.  The fact that her daughter can come over here, screech like a fucking banshee and bring over guns and swords so she can play Gonzo Fucking Sword War with my kids and then turn around and play the Gender Card just pissed me right the fuck off.  She then tells me that she teaches her kid to stick up for herself so if someone knocks her stuff over it’s OKAY to retaliate in kind.  It’s a good fucking thing she didn’t call me with every little thing because with that attitude all she’d get from is a big, hearty Serves You Fucking Right.

After agreeing to let each other know about possible costs of repair (Hubby and I have decided to pay for the thing ourselves and consider it a loss) I suggest that she no longer let Hellion come over when the Brothers are over, which will have to be enforced by me because apparently Hellion runs the show when Hen-Pecked Daddy isn’t home.  Case in point:  I caught her and Jr the other day spray painting their names on the tree between my house and my neighbors.  Good thing we’re getting rid of that tree or else I’d really be pissed.  REALLY GOOD THING they didn’t spray paint my car.  Darling Hellion was allowed to play with spray paint in her yard, she got to paint the slide on her play center.  What kind of parent lets their child play with spray paint???  She failed to notice that her daughter left her yard with the cans of paint stowed away in her pretty pink Bitchmobile*.  Looks like Hubby was right after all.  My solution?  Every time she comes over to play she will be sent home toot sweet.   If she’s mommy preshus flower that can’t handle playing with the mean old boys then she doesn’t get to play with the mean old boys.    I’ve told the boys that they have to come in the house when she does come over (just long enough for me to send her home) so that there’s no arguing about it.  Just pack up your shit and get the fuck out of my yard.  Period.

This is going to be so much fun.

Update:  No sign of the Hellion all day.  The Brothers have been here since 11 am.  No fighting, no crying, no damage to personal property.  NO SUPRISE.

*Bitch sold separately

Do any of you out there know about raw scores and percentiles for the NC CogAT tests?  They were nice enough to explain how to read the results from the IOWA test (The Captain will make an excellent farmer) but the CogAt scores?  They could be in Chinese and I’d understand them more.  NEED HELP.