I'm Making Friends, Guys!!!

Last night I was up until midnight making motherfucking Valentines to send with my 2 year old to give to his 2 year old classmates who really couldn't give a crap about a superhero lollipop...all of that hand-cramping love (horrible tedious masks and capes) will just be an obstacle impeding their fat little clumsy hands from getting to the sugar.  Whatever.  Here's a picture.  Ok, I am kinda proud of that shit considering that last year I just bought some pre-made choo choo train ones and addressed them all to "My Friend."




Speaking of friends, I made a new one recently.  Her name is Kelly.  We met at a book club and quickly decided we were going to ditch those other dicks so we could talk about laser hair removal and her crush on/my horrible fear of Robert Stack.  Not really, they were all lovely, but somehow we are now the only two members in the book club.  Whatever.  I TAKE THAT AS A COMPLIMENT.

I am not great at making friends.  Example #1.  I tried for 15 minutes to get my kid to say the word backhoe to my neighbor because it sounds exactly like he's saying butthole while she tried to subtly find chores for her daughter to do out of the room...far, far away from the 37 year old woman who thinks the word butthole is hilarious.  It is.  Example #2.   Same neighbor was asking if I'd seen Neighbor 3's two cats.  "Oh my GOD!" I exclaim! "I think [Neighbor 4] shot them today!" and then followed it with "hahahaha."  I laugh when I am uncomfortable.

So Kelly and I took our children to a place around here where the kids can participate in various science experiments. We imagined walking in, sitting in chairs and discussing puffy areolae/puffy pubic bones and how Keith Morrison kinda reminds me of my grandmother in a really good way, while our kids hung out with professional scientists who learned them some science.  Nope.  We quickly discovered that WE were supposed to be the professionals and follow instructions in a notebook at various stations.  So we decide to make some kind of slime out of glue, water and borax. It looked exactly like white slime. It got everywhere I went into sad-clown-trying-to-cheer-kid-up mode and, with exaggerated movements, turned to Kelly, threw some of it onto my chest and face and pretending to be in college and call out to a gentleman leaving my house, "wait! where are you going? can i get your number?" Then I started laughing which quickly turned into sobs.

So instead of a relaxing time sitting on our behinds talking about the existence of Bigfoot and how MTV Jenna's ass makes me feel bad about myself, I spent an exhausting hour reading manuals and realizing that my dreams of becoming smart would never happen. Kelly seemed to have her shit together enough to figure out how to work both the fog machine and a microscope without the assistance of a kindergartner.

There was also some mom-on-mom crime that occurred only a couple of hours later. We handled it. That mom won't be tattling on anyone else's kids for a long time.

Friends!