You know what I’ve done over the last 48 hours? Nothing. I have been a sloth of the most disgusting proportion. On top of that, I’ve lived in pajamas the whole time, alternating between cotton and fleece depending on my body temperature.
I’ve even lost track of the days. I swear, next year I’m going to ask for those “Days of the Week” underwear so when this happens again (because it will), I can pull my pants down and read my own ass.
There was, however, one day this weekend that I briefly changed into my yoga pants. I can’t tell you what day that was, I only know it as “the day it snowed”.
I remember it like it was yesterday (it could’ve been). I really didn’t want to go outside but Ana was so excited to see the snow. She begged and begged and begged me, and Brian guilted and guilted and guilted me. So I peeled off my fleece pj’s, the ones with the tiny martini glasses all over them, and put on my yoga pants, the ones with the hole in the crotch. They were handy, whatever.
I was not prepared for snow so I hadn’t yet purchased the kids new snow boots. Instead, I located the NEVER used boots from last year.
Yes, let me bitch one more time about the Lands End boots I bought for the kids last Christmas, the winter it never ever ever snowed enough for the kids to wear them! ugh.
Anyhow, I shoved Ana’s feet into snow boots that were one size too small. I thought for sure she would start crying (since she bitches when the seams of her socks are off-center) but she was all like “No, it’s good. Let’s go!” I think she would have been fine with Chinese foot binding if it meant she could go out in the snow.
Not long after being outside, Collin and Brian joined us for a good old fashioned snowball fight. Snowball fights can be great fun unless your adversary was once a baseball pitcher. Watching someone wind up to strike your ass with shocking accuracy can make you piss your pants…which provides only 30 seconds of warmth.
Shit, this one’s gonna hurt!
Brian was relentless. At one point, I grabbed Ana and used her as a human shield, gambling that her own father wouldn’t hit her…that hard. Yes, I’m ashamed.
But the worse snowball offender was Ana herself. She had been making snowballs behind a grouping of trees, an area known for dog pooping. Yes, her snowballs were laced with turds. The irony is, while she was pelting us with crap, the dogs were taking turns peeing on her snowman. Well, Mr. Bojangles was – Buddy (our 3-legged dog) kept tipping over and missing.
We played until it got dark and my urine soaked yoga pants had formed icicles. The moment we walked in the door, I was back in my pjs. Hello, old friend. I’ve missed you.
I would like to take a moment to mention that I showered today…because of Brian. He was heading to the grocery store, and just before going into the garage he looked back over his shoulder at me and said “Are you going to get cleaned up today?” I thought it was a rhetorical question until I saw a tear roll down his cheek…and so, for him, I showered. And then I put my pajamas right back on, bitches!
And that’s where I’ve been ever since.
Shh…be vewy vewy quiet, I’m hunting my dignity.
*NOTE: Collin just asked me what I was doing.
Me: “I’m writing a blog post.”
Collin:”How?”
Me: “What do you mean ‘how’?”
Collin:”You haven’t done anything. What could you be writing about?”
Me:”I’m writing about not doing anything.”
Collin: “Oh.” *shrugs and walks away*
