Confessions Of A Domesticated Goddess

Hello and welcome back to my faithful rainbow and fairy dust followers

  Wow having a day off for good behaviour is kind of wild. So sit back, get comfy and pour yourself your favorite beverage,  by the time you finish reading this blog entry you may find if anything out of pure sympathy for me you will need a stiff drink.

  After my phone conversation with Isaac's teacher I was livid !! to say the least.  So I did what I do best when I am stressed, I cleaned !  I took my fustration out on the dishes, and there would be hell to pay if there were spots left on the silverware.  I my friends was on a mission, I scrubbed so hard and so violently I broke out into a sweat, or hell maybe it was a hot flash who knows.  Point being the dishes are all cleaned, and actually sparkle.  From there I thumped up the stairs, telling the cat,you ambush me this time you little furball from hell I will cut you off of moist food for a day !! Up the stairs I go, I gather laundry that I swear to god I just finished washing, drying, fluffing and folding not two days ago.  It is a mystery in our house of not only where do the missing socks go from the dryer, but also how do the kids dirty so much clothing in a mere 2 days.  From there I go into the bathroom, tell the cat that until he can proove to me he actually uses the toilet to move it or lose it because by this point my already weak bladder is getting weaker by the second.  Cat gone, I start the process of eliminating my 4 glasses of water, when what do I discover, 2 things actually, first and most saddening is my betty boop jammies have a huge ole hole in the arse end. Not sure if the seam let go, or I had a huge fart and blew out the hole, either way it means Im going to have to sew.  Second thing I discover after I finish using the washroom is, the F***king toilet paper roll is EMPTY.  Out to the hallway I waddle, bettyboop down around my knees, and Im cursing all the way.  You might ask why the toilet paper is kept out in the hallway? 
  Its quite simple actually. We get a huge bag of 32 individual wrapped rolls of ass wipe that is purely divine, you would almost swear your wiping your hiney with silk. We get it at costco and it comes in a huge bag, and well our bathroom isnt very big , so to the hallway it lives until needed. Anyhoo, back to my waddle story . As I am waddling to get the toilet paper, with my betty boop jammies with the now very large hole in the ass end, down around my knees, the cat figures this would be a great time to ambush me !!!

 Down I go and none to gracefully I may add, toilet paper goes flying down the stairs, my body is in such a state that in any other conditions may actually look sexy, my feet are tangled in my jammies and the cat thinks I want to play.  He starts batting at my head, I push away in my attempts to not only get back up, but to also regain what little bit of dignity I have left, as well as finish doing when I realised no one refilled the empty shit paper roll.  The more I move, the more the cat thinks I want to play.  Hes batting , his jabbing, the little bastard even bit my ass, which I may remind is still bare assed to the wind.  IT HURT.  Finally I somehow get the cat away, get back up and what I saw next made me laugh.  Here sits Maverick with the roll of brand new toilet paper in his mouth, he went down and got it when it went flying down the stairs after the ambush by the cat.  Now this is major my friends, maverick you see has a huge fetish for paper of any kind, he could have been down there dining on fine grade ass wipe, but he didnt, he once again came to my rescue.  For that he got 4 treats and that asshole cat got nothing, but a dirty look.
  Ok so after 20 mins my bathroom adventure is over, down I come , still holding my butt I may add, only to discover I forgot the damn laundry upstairs.  AHHHHHHHHHH back up 15 steps, only to have to turn around and come back down 15 steps.  By this time I am exhusted, physically and mentally, that cat plays havoc on an already stressed mind. 

  Coffee I say, that will work , in I go to the kitchen to make my coffee, mmmmmmm smells heavenly divine.  Open the fridge for the cream and out flies a brand new 2 L ice cold bottle of diet coke, right on my foot.  I am jumping up and down, Im saying some not so nice words, when what should happen next, the F****king cat spills coffee all over my fresly scrubbed floor.  By this time all I could do was sit on the kitchen floor, in my hole in the ass favorite pair of pajamas, and weep !!!.  This isnt me I say, pick yourself up dust yourself off and clean the coffee is what my heart is saying, however my brain is telling me something different, its telling me mmmmmmm cant you just taste that fireball, the way it smells of cinnamon, the way it burns going down and that lovely warm feeling it leaves in your belly.  To which I tell myself, SELF its only 10am and besides you crazy bitch your all out of fireball.  I get back up off the floor, clean the mess and remake my coffee, the whole time watching where the demon cat is.  Come in light a smoke,take my first sip of deliciousness , only to discover, I forgot the cream and sugar !!!!

   It is now 12:07pm my friends and I am happy to report I now have a cup of coffee, with the cream and sugar, but I just discovered it has gone cold , as I have been typing to you about my epic journeys of being a domesticated goddess.  I hope you all have been able to drink a cup of coffee today, and I hope you can all say "I'm so happy, I could shit rainbows and fart fairy dust"