There are no ugly children.

This post is something that my sister wrote and it hit my heart incredibly hard.

My sister and I are opposites.
This is something that we have always known.
I always say that she sucked up all of the Portuguese and left the Irish for me.

As we grew up our lives took different paths and it finds us at either end of the spectrum.

We both have an incredible zealous passion for our careers. And we speak about them with conviction and intensity while we are together.

We joke that I Deal in creating human beings, while she Deals with putting them to rest.

She is a Mortician, and half of the time I cannot bear the stories that she has to tell.

"Stop. I cant handle this." I mutter at her

"Sorry sister." she replies, but she never has a choice in the matter. She doesn't get to choose which death she has to handle. There is no accepting of one in trade for another.

This morning her words appeared in my FEED. And I simply HAD to share them:

Cindy Tavares

November 16 at 11:29pm ·

 

 

THERE ARE NO UGLY CHILDREN

 

A few months ago, I found myself a bottle of Grey Goose down into a weekend bender. I don't really have a habit of drinking but there are some cases that I need "help" with when I am off call and I have time to think.

 I always need help with the kids.

This particular case was a 3 year old girl. She died in a rollover.

It was the heaviest 35 lbs I have ever felt in my life. A 400 lb case is a piece of cake compared to this one.

 I cried over her body. Her Mother was annihilated emotionally. Gone. Nothing left of this mothers soul at that moment. Void of everything but pain.

Why am I telling you this? 

Because I don't have the luxury of emotional ignorance. I wanted to write and tell you what I see. 

I see these posts OFTEN: "Click share if you have a beautiful daughter".  "Click share if you have a handsome son". 

I am positive that there are many that see these posts and spring in to tears, probably with the thought of "I used to". And they get to go through the grieving process all over again, resentful that someone is throwing it in their faces that their daughter or son met an untimely end.

Grief doesn't make sense. Grief is very personal.

Anything anyone says or does when someone is grieving, can be seen or taken as very personal.

There is no method to the madness.

The mother of the 3 year old little girl has a facebook. I am positive that those posts hurt her heart. I am positive that with the holidays right around the corner, she especially hates these posts. 

"It's Daughter week!" Great! Again. like it was 2 weeks ago (I'm fairly sure that some of these posters make that shit up whenever the mood of that week hits them)

"It's Son week!" Nice. Again. Like someone on facebook told me it was last week. 

Why is there even a son week or a daughter week? I don't get it.  I just imagine loving them every day is probably best. 

But I digress. 

Maybe I am so involved and immersed in my work that I relate more to the dead and the grieving than I do to the living. Maybe I am just more concerned with them and their grief and ultimately their healing, and that makes me appear to be an asshole to most everyone else. 

"Can you wipe my butt?" ....A Pre-K conversation

 



"Hey."

"Hey." I nod back

"Can you wipe my butt?"

"No. But you can."

"No. I definitely can't."

I am standing at the half door of my classroom bathroom.

"I cant either, there is a clause in my contract that strictly prohibits me from wiping the butts of little boys who can build bumble bee replicas out of Legos."

"Oh."

I wait a minute and let his mind work on that one.

"Well I don't want to." He piped up after a minute or so.

"I see. Well I don't want to either. So what should we do?"

His shoulders sank and he kicked his feet.

"Let me go check my contract" I disappeared for a moment.


In my classroom there is a mysterious contract that I bring up and use in some instances like:

"Ms.BEANIEEEEEEE She wont play with me, can you make her?"

"Nope. That is not in my contract, however you can ask Lunden nicely, she is all alone over there and I bet she would like to play with you."

or

"My mommy says you HAVE to do what I say."

"Sorry kid, doing what you say is most DEFENETLY not in my contract. Your mommy is out of luck."

See? It is quite helpful...but back to the kid on the pot...



"Okay, I checked my contract and we have two options."

"Okay." he says, quite seriously.

"You can NOT wipe your butt, but then you will smell like poop and a poop cloud will follow you around and people might actually CALL you poop cloud, which is not going to help with the ladies."

"That's not good."

"No. The second option is that YOU wipe your butt because, after all, it is yours. But that I should teach you because I am your teacher, and that's kinda what I do."

"Let's do that."

So we do.

5 minutes later he washes his hands with "Copious amounts of soap" and joins his friends at the Lego table.
"Hey guess what guys! I wiped my butt!"

"Cooooool" His friends say.

I guess when you are four, wiping your own butt is pretty awesome and it makes me wonder how long that lasts.

I will try and impress my own friends with my butt wiping skills promptly.

UGLY.

 

The other morning, while I was doing my makeup Emma walked in to the bathroom, took one look at what I was wearing and said one thing "NO."

I smiled at her through my mascara wand."What's wrong? You do not like my tube dress?"

She crossed her arms "It doesn't do anything for you."

I think she was referring to my dimpled ass and rolly rolls, so I turned to her and did a fat dance (just for her pleasure)

She sighed at me and started to brush her teeth. I think this was when she realized that I wouldn't dare go into work looking like an encased military green sausage roll. "Well...what else are you wearing with it?" she  asked.

I showed her and she begrudgingly nodded her approval. "Okay." she murmured through the white minty foam and I smiled. (after I stuck out my tongue)

I am known for wearing ugliness. Case in point...my ugly fur vest.

We had gone to the Thrift store to search out an Ugly Christmas Sweater and I found one right away.
"Emma, you go look at stuff. I am going to find TREASURES!"

"Oh my god" Emma muttered and gave me a half eye roll.

"TREASURES!" I screeched as I hurried down the isles, my eyes searching for something fabulous with which to plan amazing.

And I found it.

I gasped and grabbed a vest off of the rack. A woman next to me cringed when she saw it and walked the other way.

"Hello lovely!" I greeted my treasure.

I checked the size, the length and the cut. It was perfect! I hung it on my arm and went to find Emma.

On the way I skinnied my eyes at anyone who dared to look upon my amazing vest with envy. (Okay there wasn't anyone...) But just incase I held it close.

I found Emma "I FOUND A TREASUUUURE!" I screeched with glee.

She put her hands over her mouth when she saw it "OH.MY.GAWD that is horrid."

I looked at her face and back to my vest. "Horrid?"

"Yes."

"I love it."

"No!"

"Yes."

"NO."
"YES! I love it so much, if it had a penis I would make babies with it and there would be fur vest babies walking around!" I stomped my foot for emphasis.

She sighed at me and knew she had lost. I checked the price as we got up to the counter. "OHNO."

"What."

"I don't think I can get it. It is too much."

"Thank God......I mean...At a thrift store?"

"YES. FOR a thrift store, it is too much and I have to get these ugly Christmas sweaters. When we comeback with Brandee, if it is still here, we will see."

My shoulders sagged and my heart practically died. I handed it to Emma and told her to hide it.

"No. I am going to hang it out in the open and I guarantee in 3 hours it will STILL be there, that is how AWFUL it is."

3 hours later....

I rushed into the store with Emma, Brandee and Mandy. I showed Brandee to the Ugly Christmas Sweater Rack and then went in search of my vest.

"I will go get it." Emma rushed off and came back with it. My eyes lit up. "I told you. 3 hours and no one even touched it."

"Well, I cant help it if everyone except me has bad taste!"

"Lets see this vest." Mandy said from behind me.

I turned around and held the vest in front of me like a rare jewel that it was. I expected them to gasp in awe and wonder at its amazingness, but instead their heads jerked back and resembled...

 "Ohhhh MY." Mandy said

"Its awful" Emma muttered

"Ummm." Brandee hummed

Mandy kept looking from my beaming smile back to the vest. Like at any second the vest would turn into something else.

"Isn't it fantastic?!" I moaned

"NO." Emma stated

"Not really Beanie...but okaaaay!" Mandy said

Brandee petted it and replied "Ummm its really....soft." she nodded and smiled at me.

"I cant get it anyways because it is too much." I hung it up and stomped off, certain that My heart would be broken for AT LEAST 6 hours over this.

After leaving I was sad.

I walked with Emma and with each step, my shoulders started to sag.

I was sad.

I needed that vest.

I started to turn around.

"What are you doing?!" Emma hollered as I turned and started stomping back inside.

"I neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeed it!"

"No. Mom. Moooooooooooooooom."

"WHAT!"

"Look at Mandy"

Mandy had purchased my vest and held it over her back, like beanie bait.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE" I screamed and rushed at her "YOU love me ONLY!" And I hugged her and squeezed her and snatched at my LOVELY vest.

"Yes I do." Mandy agreed

Hallowen HUSTLE.

"EMERGENCY FAMILY MEETING!" I yelled as I came home from yet another Halloween store.

Emma looked up from the laptop and then over at Shane. She tilted her head twords me and yelled at him "FAMILY MEETING!"

He lifted up his huge honken headphones and replied "Huh?"

"Family Meeting." Emma replied with a bossiness that is apparently inherited from me.

"Ah. 1 sec."

We all sat on the floor of the living room and Karma squirmed on the ground in the middle. (She is such an attention whore...also inherited from me)

"This is an emergency meeting, which means we dispense with the niceties."

"Okay." Both of my children agreed, eager to find out what the emergency was.

"We have an EMERGENCY! I cannot find a peter pan hat ANYWHERE."

Emma stared at me and Shane murmured "Oooookaaaaaaaay."

"Which means that Emma cannot be Peter Pan. Which means that we cannot do our family theme, which inevitably means that my life IS RUINED!"

"Oh my god." Emma stated quite dryly.

"OHHHHH Myyyyy." Shane replied

I lay down on the ground, moaned and Karma excitedly followed suit, Rubbing herself all over the carpet and grunting quite like a pig.

"I cannot find Genie Pants for Shane! And we cannot find a single set of popeye arms either! We need to think of something else!"

Emma leaned back on her hands with her arms outstretched. "I can always be Sherlock. All I need is a brown curly wig." My mind raced, but it was not excited...not in the least. "And what about everyone else?"

"Well....you can be John Watson."

"A FAT John? No thank you."

She laughed "You can be Moriarty"

"A FAT Moriarty? My life is practically over."

"Lets see...you could be a Queen."

"Yes. I am a Queen...I could be something fabulous, I could be a roman queen....I could be a some kind of queen....I could be a...."

"Drama Queen?" Emma laughed at herself and I gave her the death stare.

"I will find something for me, you worry about you and Karma." Shane stated, and I didn't doubt it. His room is a veritable costume closet. He has every hat you could want.

"We don't have to match Ma." Emma stated and ran into her room to try out her Sherlock costume.

She looked great and it was decided, after a quick Google search on homemade pet costumes, that I would be an Egyptian Queen (of course) and Karma would be my mummy. All wrapped in bandages and the like.

By Monday I was perturbed because Emma had really wanted to be Peter Pan.

By Tuesday, someone said "Can't you just MAKE the hat. It is simple."

I smiled with grit teeth and thought to myself ...."Why yes I can, while making 37 OTHER costumes and getting home at 7:00 each night and AFTER I make dinner for my children Yes, I am sure that I can."

Instead I just grimaced and walked away, because my stress meter was reaching capacity.I went around the corner, breathed like a whale and went in search of an elbow to pinch or a turtle necklace to rub. (MY stress relievers)

Tuesday night found me in line at Hobby Lobby with a bolt of green felt and gritty eyes.

Wednesday found me with tacky glue beneath my nails and Lego boxes stacked up around me, wondering how in the hell I was going to fucking find time to make a fucking hat.

On Thursday I ran into Walmart and even though I couldn't afford it, purchased brown boots that resembled peter pan.

And on Halloween  morning at 5:00 am, I was sitting on my living room floor trying to cut out a motherfucking hat.

Karma felt my pain. She huffed at me and half rolled her eyes.

By 5:50 pm I was frantically searching for a red feather in all of the classrooms. I ran into the main building and plunked my Peter Pan hat on Juan's head. "You have to help me! Does this look like Peter Pans hat?"  It swallowed his head and stuck out in a weird way.

"Why do I know what Peter Pans hat looks like?" he asked me, pulling up the brim of the hat.

"Because you go to Disneyland a lot! You have to help me!" I moaned "If I don't finish this I will be THE WORST MOTHER EVER!"

I stood back and looked. It looked more like a pirate hat then anything pan-ish. It was horrible!

I swallowed and pulled it off of his head and plopped it on Brandee's.

Juan looked at the hat and then looked at me. He didn't have to say a word."It doesn't look like Peter Pans Hat." I stated and pulled it off of her head.

I cut it down a bit and rolled it a bit and plunked in the 2 feathers that I stole from Jen.

"It does look like it. Emma will be Happy." Brandee stated but I knew right then That I sucked ass at making Peter Pans Hat.

Once we got home, I attached it to Emma's head and I hoped she didn't notice the wonky way that it tilted. I grimaced, patted her shoulder and She smiled at me in the mirror.

I had found Pirate gear for myself and had the wings and Tu-tu for our Tinkerbell Karma in the car.
At every house we went too, I sprinkled Fairy dust behind Karma, but pretty soon my fingers were too wet and I just left clumps of the stuff on the ground.

Unfortunately Peter Pan doesn't wear glasses, so Emma stumbled and squinted in the rain. Her brother guided her to each house and stood behind her at each door. TinkerKarma howled excitedly each and every time her girl came back to her and after an hour she started to shiver, her little green tu-tu wet and limp and her once glittery wings were sodden and tilted to one side.

Halfway through the hour walk, Emma lost both of the feathers, but received a ton of candy because she was one of the only trick or treaters who knocked on the doors.

When we returned back to Brandee's house. I put Karma into the car and said goodbye to my wolf and moo who had trudged the wet night along with us.

On the drive home,  I looked at Emma in the review mirror. She sat laughing at Karma and smiling. I knew that despite the rain and the soggy bra, despite the fucked up hat and the squinting eyes, that next year this will all be another wonderful memory. It will be drawn by Emma in excruciating detail, it will be chortled over by Shane and it will be remembered by us all.

I have decided to get a shadowbox and frame my fucktard of a hat. I will put it up on my weird wall and one day Emma can tell her own kids how their Grandmother created a hat that was so retarted that it was remembered near and far.

Perhaps she will one day create a monstrosity as well, and know that the uneven cut, the giant brim and the much too small feathers, were placed on her head with a mouth full of grimace and a heart full of love.

 

 

 

 

 

We're fucked.

"AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
I omit a scream that I kid you not, incited my pitbull to scratch at her ears, my daughter to gasp and the world to FREEZE.

FREEZE in terror, and I shall tell you why.

Let's set the mood shall we?

I had a lovely day with my main midget and her Bestie.

Besides trying to locate a Walmart that has the ability to expel money into my hands (another story) We had spent the day perusing scary stores and laughing over Emma's small quips and funny antics.

My kid is funny, what can I say.

We went to 3 different Halloween stores and only left the last one when I heard a frantic grunting behind me. Frightened, I looked over my shoulder only to find a hefty lady leaning on her cart and making noises that could incite the dead.

I hate making fun of fatties, and I shant. Suffice it to say I grabbed my kids and sighed while looking up to heaven at Jesus. "Why did that just happen." I stated.

Rick swears Fat people grunt when they walk, and I hate anything that leans in his favor. This was Jesus telling me to leave the store. So I did. (without grunting)

Once we dropped off Emma's friend we went home.

Do you know that feeling that you get when you enter your most favoritest place in the world? That happy bubbly feeling of love and perfect-ness? That is how I feel every time I walk through my doors.

"Hello home!" I always say and place my purse on the proper hanger of my coat tree.

I turned the coffee pot on and picked up my book. The house was silent, save for the turtle tank bubbling so nicely, quite like a water fall. And the almost silent thrumming of the fan, sending the perfect amount of air whispering over me.

Eventually I fell asleep, curled on my favorite cream couch that is absolute heaven. It is thick and fluffy and it folds you into its cushions.

While I slept, Emma read.

When I awoke from my nap I refilled my ice tea, grabbed my book and my e-cig and settled back for some more lovely evening.

And that is when it happened.....Horror!

I had just turned the electronic page of my book when I saw it. Movement on the couch....Movement right NEXT to me......

It....

was.....

a.......

MOUSE!!!!!



"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I screamed.

I don't know how I got across the room and up onto the sectional but I did. THIS Fat bitch flew.

I screamed and screamed and screamed some more.

I screamed while pointing to the couch.

I screamed while jumping.

I screamed while looking down at my daughter next to me, looking up at me in horror and confusion.

I screamed while shaking out my dress and holding a pillow over my mouth because I KNEW I was being crazy...but I couldn't help it.

"WHAT IS WRONG!?" Emma asked while beginning to laugh "LOOK AT YOUUU!!!!"
she pointed and laughed out loud.

I took a breath. "A MOUSEEEEEEEEEEEEE A MOUSEEEEEEEEEEEEEE ON MY COUCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Spittle flew across the room

Emma stood up, looked at the couch... looked at me and started laughing so hard she bent in half.

"A MOUSE A MOUSEEEEEEEEEE KARMA EAT IT EAT ITTTTTTT!"  At the mention of her name Karmas ears perked up.

"KARMA ATTACK!!!!!!!!" I screamed. She woofed and viciously attacked the couch pillow.
(And when I say vicious, I mean she gingerly nipped at it and drug it across the room.)

"NO KARMAAAAA EAT IT!!!!"
She nipped at the pillow again and then rolled onto her back, expecting a belly rub and an atta girl.

"Good girl Karma! You are so vicious! You saved our lives!" Emma gushed over her while I did the HOLY FUCK THERE IS A MOUSE dance.

"WHERE IS SHAAAAAANE!!!!!??? SHAAAAAAANEEEEEE" I cried.

Emma stood up. "CALM DOWN!" She ordered, but she couldn't stop laughing. "Oh my God! It was a little cute mouse."

"IT IS IN MY HOUSE AND ON MY FURNITUREEEEEEEEEEE!" I screamed

Emma walked tword the couch.

"Take a light saber!" I hollered. She grabbed one from the wall. (while rolling her eyes)
I then realized that I was letting my child get eaten by a mouse, and that is not really a good thing to do, so I gingerly got off of the sectional and ran to my heaven couch.

"OOooooh!" I huffed while standing in front of it. "OOooooh!" I moaned while removing a cushion.

With each removal I jerked the pillow off and screamed, holding my light saber over my head for maximum mouse bashing technique.

"Emma, if you see a mouse bop it!"

She stood next to the couch laughing and pointing at me. I don't think she understood the upheaval my stomach was facing.

"Lookatyooooou!" She laughed

"Laugh it up SHIT!" I grit through my teeth. THIS.WAS.HORRIBLE!

Every single luscious pillow cushion was removed and there was no mouse to bop.

We took turns beating the couch with our light sabers, each bap causing lights to flash and the sabers to omit sounds.

I turned the couch completely over. NOTHING.

We bopped it some more. Punctuating each hit with a shriek from me and a chortle from Emma.

Nothing happened, except Emma laughed even harder. "This is my FAVORITE part of the day."

"WHA.....WHY?!" I grumbled

"Look at us! We are beating our couch with light sabers! There is nothing there Ma."

"But there WAS! I saw it!"

"Ma. We have a huge field, it probably scampered inside and scampered outside again. Stop freaking out. Nothing is here."

I harrumphed and agreed that my couch was mouse free. Just incase I plugged any area of it that could be accessed by a mouse and refashioned my perfect heaven couch.

"MY life is RUUUUUUINED!" I moaned

"Oh my God. You are so dramatic. Your couch is fine! We took the whole thing apart."

"Okay Emma" I pouted and turned on BONES. I looked at Karma and growled. Her ears perked up and she rolled over.

"Aweeee she is so cute! She saved our lives! Didn't you BAY-BEE!"

Karma wiggled to and fro on her back, soaking in Emma's gratitude.

"NO! She did not save us! How sad Karma." She looked at me, turned her head to the side and I melted.

Rubbing her tummy I thanked her for saving our lives from the dreaded pillow monster.

She is now asleep at my feet, quite confident in abilities to nip a pillow and have us fawn over her.

When the Zombies come, we're fucked.

HERSELF

'Mom, can you help me pick out something for picture day?"

Several things go through my mind. The first one being: "Is this a trap?"

I don't let on that I am shocked.

My daughter and I don't exactly share the same style.

She is all ripped jeans and pink Floyd T-shirts. Converse and Rock.

I am all dresses and red lipstick.  I quite prefer things that are ALMOST ugly, but not quite.

But I don't say that, I calm my face (which is quite hard to do) and say "Of course." I cant say this with too much enthusiasm, because Emma letting me help her dress is as elusive as a silent fart while seated in a plastic chair. That shit is rare.

(.... and Emma has been dressing herself since she was 4.)

We enter her room. Teal walls and black and white everything else. Wise quotes are written on the wall with black sharpie and her art is meticulously pinned there as well.

I turn to her clothing, which is (like mine) hung up according to color.

I start to go through her clothing and pull out her Led Zeppelin White T-shirt with black 3/4 length sleeves. "I think you should wear one of your favorite T-shirts with your white converse."

I am quite happy with myself and so I smile.

She sighs and her shoulders sag. "I don't want to wear a T-shirt"

"Wha...." I look at her and then turn to her closet. "Honey, you wanted only t-shirts. Oh! Here is not a t-shirt!" and I pull out one of her plaid tops. "You can wear your plaid. I am sure on you it is not Dyke-ish!"

She shakes her head and gives me a look.

I turn back to the closet and reach waaaay WAAAAAAYin the back. I pull out a dress that should be covered in spider webs and forget-me dust. "THIS!" I announce proudly.

"NO dresses."

At this moment I am quite honestly trying not to laugh, I also think there is a learning lesson in this for her. "Babe. We have to go with our options. And yours are...Lemme see... Of Mice and Men, Pink Floyd, Green Day ...OH this one has good colors! " I say holding it up.

She shakes her disappointed head.

"Ah. Well maybe next year we shall think about this before the actual picture day. As of now...let see.." And I hold up a long sleeve top. It is grey and has black X's all over it. She puts it on.

"The cut is lovely on you. A vest would look perfect over it and several necklaces, all different lengths."

She grunts. The necklaces are too much.

"IT is HOT today."

"Yes it is, but you could always change afterwards."

*INSERT EMMA SIGH HERE ( which is tsunami-ish) Quite honestly, it makes me want to pop her head off of her body.

Instead I wait and hold everything in, because I am a mom and I am supposed to.

She decided that it is "FINE" and I begin to braid her hair to the side. At the end I put 6 thick black rubber bands in quick succession. It makes her look like a badass and I tell her so.

She nods and a smile appears on her face. A small one.

She puts on her thick black nerdy glasses (MY PICK!) and turns to go. "Hey."

She stops.

I touch her arm "You are a Queen."

She sighs "Yes MOM."

"Then act like it."

She leaves the room and I follow her as she walks spraying her with girly spray and telling her how beautiful she is.

Brandee is at the end of the hall and she looks at me over Emma's head with a bewildered look. I echo the same look back and do the whole Head shake, shoulder shrug. Which is silent speak for "I don't know what the fuck..."

She takes Emma to her stop, because I stayed home sick that day.

 

5 minutes later I get a Text from Emma: "Sorry Ma I just wanted to look pretty"

 

I respond "You are BEAUTIFUL, and your hair looks amazing. I love you."

 

"Love you too Ma."

Being a parent is tiptoeing around life lessons, but letting your child come to the conclusion themselves.  And believe me, it is hard to do.

When Emma got home that night, she decided that next year we will pick out an outfit while we shop for pictures.

I responded with "Very good idea."

It is my job to be cried upon, sighed at and ranted too and to be the person who will wait, listen and guide.

I am not in a competition with my kids over who is right and who is wrong. No parent should be. Of course we know more then they do. We are grown-ups and they are children.

I am not trying to grow Emma's faith or belief in ME, She has had that since the moment that she was born, was hungry and I fed her.

I am trying to do something even larger. I am trying to grow her belief in HERSELF.

FUCK this drought!

I am sitting on my couch, drinking my coffee when the news flashes.
It practically screams at me. "The heat returns." and I want to cut a bitch.

I cant handle this anymore, I am about to snap.

As far as I am concerned EVERYTHING is the drought fault.

Sicknesses that are everywhere. THE DROUGHT.

My hair wont curl the same.....drought.

My stomach hurting....HELLO??? My body is OBVIOUSLY reacting to the drought!


Insane murder massacres? The drought finally got to them. I cant blame them, I am about to loose it my self.

I may be slightly obsessed with it. OBVIOUSLY the end is nigh. Buy bottled water bitches, because zombism is caused by the drought. People will start to go mad and end up eating each others face off because they DARED to water their grass too long.

I will be patient ZERO and Brandees neighbor is on my face eating list.

Her grass is shiny and deep green, mostly because she waters it until water is trickling in the street as I drive up. "OHMYGOD!! LOOK AT THIS ASSHOLE!" I yell at 5:45 am

I hate her and I have never seen her. Just wait bitch. When the world ends I am going all kindsa PURGE on you....everyone will understand.

Last week when I purchased a flat of water Emma's Eyebrows raised "What are we buying this for? You love our water."

"UM HELLO! Drought!! The world is ending child. It is obvious that everyone is going to turn into Zombies and we will need water in bottles."

"You bought end of the world water?"

"Uh huh" I nod
"Okay ma."

"Laugh now, thank me later honky."

I think I am starting to scare people "Beanie I HAD to put water in my bird bath. Birds need water. There is a drought." Mandy stated to me a few weeks ago.

I nod and turn my glare to her neighbor across the street. PURGE BITCH. I think...and then I smile.

At the first sign of rain last week I was exiting the Dollar General with Brandee prior to work and I screamed at the top of my lungs "ITS RAINING!!!!!!"

I spread my arms and jumped up and down. I spun in a circle and felt the world become whole again! People slowed down and stared at me. Whatever. I don't care if it was only 7 drops of the stuff.

Not only is the world ending from the drought and the effects there of, but this heat is killing my fall wardrobe.
For instance, I have the most lovely dress that cannot be worn until the temperatures decline.

NOW the heat has gotten between myself and my lovely dress.

It is all down hill from there bitches.