Apparently, it’s shark week. This may mean something different to me than it does to you. In my normal day to day, thanks to my hilariously funny bestie (i totally hate that word), shark week means I’m on my period. If you sit and ponder that for a moment you’ll see the terminology is suiting for oh so many reasons.
Okay, time’s up.
Those crazy asses at the Discovery Channel (or is it National Geographic? Meh- they’re basically the same thing.) think their shark week is better than mine. They might be right. But at least no one loses their damn limbs during mine. (for the most part.)
My sister was at a bar the other night and saw three girls with t-shirts that had shark fins glued to the back and “It’s Shark Week” plastered to their asses. What the hell? My drunk sister told them what it means in our world. They thought it was funny. (Until they realized no men were coming within 10 paces. Dummies.)
I could care less about the TV version of shark week. Until I was in the shower getting ready to take the kids to their dentist appointment. They are way overdue and I better not get any lip about it. You probably know by now I have a freaky phobia of the dentist (and little people.) so I have been putting this off. I don’t want to pass my idiocy on to my kids, but now I have to just buck up and do it. The Hubbs has informed me that now that he’s the chief bread winner, this shit falls squarely on me and I need to get over it.
WELL HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO TAKE XANAX BEFORE I GO TO THE DENTIST IF I’M THE DRIVER AND SUPPOSEDLY RESPONSIBLE FOR TWO CHILDREN???
So, as I was saying, I was in the shower getting ready and realized maybe it’s not a good idea to take the kids to the dentist during Shark Week. I’ve heard all sorts of stories (probably) about weird things that (may or may not) happen during Shark Week and I’m not sure I’m willing to chance anything Wonky happening to my kids while we’re there. (No matter how freaking crazy they are making me right now!) WHATEVER DO I DO?
I guess I’m just going to have to call a cab and pop a Xanax and a shot of the Goose. Because REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED ON FINDING NEMO???
*If I were in my right mind I’d apologize for all the () and the YELLING. But I’m not. (Which is why it’s there.)