I've decided I should be nominated for sainthood. I believe the qualifications are that you must perform three miracles. Well, that's easy.
Miracle #1- All of my children are still alive. Even after coloring on my walls with Sharpies and fingernail polish, stuffing Q-tips and bar soap down the toilet, and spreading poop on everything (walls, door handles, shoes, etc) during the potty training phase.
Miracle #2- My husband is still alive. Even after declaring that giving our children a bath and helping with the dishes after a meal "isn't his job." (See. I'm a saint.)
Miracle #3- I still nominated a certain cheerleader for All Stars (she deserved it) even though I got an "a**-chewing" (as her mom likes to call it) in front of the entire squad because she has a permanent case of PMS. Oh, and I didn't kill her either. (Even though I did hear Mrs. Hannigan's screams of "Kill! Kill! Kill!" in my head)
Saint Kimberly- The patron saint of mothers with restraint
Has a nice ring don't you think?
Simplifying...
15 years ago
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1 comment:
On the third one...I go back to the movie "Death Becomes Her"...You pushed me down the stairs...come on think about it...all the muscles it took to hold yourself back and how much fewer it would have took to simply reach out your hand and push her down those bleachers.
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