Things I will never understand but I'm going to blog about anyway.

Here are some things that I just don't get and the more I try to wrap my brain around it the more confused I get.  I have a small brain like that.

Here ya go:

• When my dental hygienist talks to me while I'm getting my teeth cleaned.  Now I'm not opposed to the talking bit, it's the part where she asks me questions and expects me to answer with her hands all in my mouth while wielding her sonic dental tool of death that has me miffed.  No, I can not answer you with a mouth full of spit and your hands and tools all jammed up and in there.  Stop getting mad at me for gurgling and not saying anything.  Seriously, I'm trying to concentrate on not licking you, like last time.  Now that would be embarrassing.    
• Wearing Spanx at the pool.  And a bra.  And nothing else.  Who does this??? Apparently this woman at our pool does.  She had on one of those Bali cross your heart's and, I shit you not, white Spanx.  Who in their right mind goes out in public like that?!?  I get that it's a squillion degrees, plus humidity, but for the love of Pete quit raping my eyes.  

• Listening to my daughter sweet talk the baby and it goes a little something like this: "Awww, who's got a pussy face, huh???  You have a pussy face, that's who!  Awww.  Pussy, pussy, pussy.  Do you have a pussy face?  Awww, you have such a sweet pussy face!" 
• The fact The Association got all pissy, pissed-off when the high schoolers foamed the fountain.  It's an annual right of passage ya old farts.  Lighten up.  And the fact that it needed it.  Last I walked by, there was a dead animal of some sort floating around in there.  You aught to be thanking them for cleaning it out.  

• The fact my husband wants Gracie to be potty trained at nineteen months.  I will not be a party to this.  She is not ready and I'm not going to be cleaning up pee and poo from the far corners of the house when she tries to hide her mess.  I already did this with my long dead cat and I have no wish to repeat it.  I stand firm on this and she will remain in diapers for the time being.  
• My remote.  We just had the whole house wired for audio and, for my convenience, we paid $300 for each "smart remote" so I could use it without getting pissed, throwing it and breaking it.  This may, or may not have happened in the past with previous remote controls.  So when I went downstairs to watch TV and was able to turn on the TV but not hear anything I frigging saw stars.  I was pissed enough to call Audio Guy Owner on Sunday morning because now I had a $300 remote and I couldn't even get the satisfaction of throwing something because $300 was just too much money to be chucking against the wall for my total lack of anger management skills. 
• To question the NO means NO policy.  You know, the one where a girl says "NO" it means NO, I'd rather not but thank you anyway.  It doesn't mean she really wanted it and was just mistaken.  I believe the theory is fundamentally flawed as my 18 month old does not listen to me at all when I say "NO."  Matter of fact, she went out of her way just today to do exactly what I didn't want her to do so that I was screaming, "NO, NO, NO!!!" at the top of my lungs and she looked me square in the face, said eff you, and still did it anyway.  Maybe it's not flawed, and maybe she didn't really say eff you, but every time she does something like that, after I say NO a zillion times, the thought that we expect someone to understand and respect the word NO makes me want to cut someone as my own eighteen month old doesn't even respect it.  Maybe she just doesn't respect me.  I don't know.  But that thought runs fleetingly through my mind as she's in the midst of her defiance.   

And now I leave you with one final conversation we had sitting round the table last night. My mom mentioned something about seeing a container full of cables and/or wires in the garage.  When she asked my husband what it was for and "Why on earth do we need a container full of wires and cables that were sitting out in the garage for over a year?"  My husband replied that, "No it could not go to Goodwill.  We may need them in the future" or some other load of crap that makes me fear for us being on the next episode of Hoarders.  I don't know.  I stopped listening as I knew how the conversation was going to end.  I kept sucking down my drink for fear of saying something I'd later regret.  I looked at my mom and may have mumbled a little too coherently, cue the regret part, "Welcome to my world" with a bonus eye roll to which my son replies, "Mom how many people are in your world?  One?"

Yes, my little boy, one very happy old lady getting drunker by the minute.  

So there you have it, things that I just don't understand or want to try to understand anymore.  Watch for me on an upcoming episode of Hoarders.  I have a feeling you'll know me when you see me.