As I awoke this morning in a foggy haze, I realized that I have awoken every morning in a foggy haze since incubating my very first crotchfruit, and not just the mornings after a night of “YAY the kids are FINALLY frickin’ asleep, let’s have a drink!” nights. I have been running on fumes for years, and some days, even the strongest pot of coffee doesn’t do much to help.
The shuffling along, slumped tired shoulders, the dark circles under the eyes, the groaning and moaning and generally bad temper… WHAT HAS BECOME OF ME? There is really only one answer: I have become a MOMBIE. Don’t worry, I don’t have a hankering for brains. All I REALLY want is a GIANT steaming mug of coffee that magically refills itself once I’ve gulped my way to the bottom. You don’t have to be concerned about being bitten, because that is not how the Mombie Apocalypse that is upon us (and has been for quite some time) is spread.
Finding out if you have been infected is really quite simple. Just answer a few simple questions:
Do your fantasies consist of 8 consecutive hours of sleep and watching your favorite tv show without hearing “MOOMMYYYYYY! I DON’T WANNA WATCH THIS! THIS IS BOOO-RIINNNGGG!” ?
Do you not quite feel human until you have had a cup of coffee? Or ten?
Do you count the minutes until bed time?
Do you have a deep-seated hatred of certain children’s cartoon characters and find yourself cursing at them when they are on as though they can actually hear you?
Does “because I said so!” sound like a reason so rock solid that it could stand up in court?
Have you ever been so exhausted by grocery shopping with your spawn, that when you got home you ordered a pizza?
Are you angered by the fact that no one ever actually tells you how to get to Sesame Street?
Do you know all the words to every kid show theme song, but can’t remember why you walked in to the living room?
If you answered yes to 2 of these, I’m sorry to say, you’re a full-blooded Mombie. Unfortunately, there is no cure, but there IS lots of booze, and that’s basically the same thing.
@wildblueME I just don't tell them what I'm making anymore
Winning Advice from an 8-year old goo.gl/fb/MmhfYU
Y'know what's awesome? I don't even have to waste time trying new recipes because my kids will tell me they hate it before I start cooking.
@Julieannefiu I still sing WRAPPED UP LIKE A DOUCHE. I think they're lying about the "real" lyrics
I sang SO many embarrassingly wrong song lyrics with such confidence. pic.twitter.com/Ww5TaAxY3r
@AndreaPerez0217 Not that I'm biased, but I highly recommend ;) Hope you enjoy!
Parenthood: you think it's gonna be all hugs & booboo kisses, but it's really cooking food everyone hates & scraping boogers off of walls.