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Damnit

Posted on December 29, 2006

I remember playing a game of tag beneath the willow trees at Amazon Park in the spring of my fourth grade year. I had yet to discover the truly sinister side of girls as the segregation by giggles and burps, and the cold calculations of the “tweens” had not yet occurred. Something happened that compelled me to screechjesus or shit. I’ll admit that it didn’t take much. I’d been on the periphery of enough of my dad’s poker games (no offense Dad, we can write it off to Nick or Joe)to know all the words to say upon stubbing your toe, losing a match or just feeling pissed. Looking back, I didn’t do much as a result of peer pressure – though the couple…

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East Coast Christmas Re-Broadcast.

Posted on December 29, 2006

We started Christmas around 8 o’clock. Mom was up at 5 wondering when everyone else would wake up…the extra three hours were rapturously enjoyed. Briar received oh so much Princess paraphernalia. Avery gummed, chewed and gagged on loads of wrapping paper,mom made a second pot of coffee (purr), dad thanked his lucky stars that he thought to do the “some assembly required” two nights ago (mom’s idea of setting up on Christmas Eve rivals set decorating for a Broadway show), Ella devoured in less than 30 minutes two “nearly indestructible for even the toughest dogs” toys, and Barnaby spent the morning having alone time in the pack-n-play. I seriously don’t understand any of this. It’s cool that Briar is happy and all, but…Dad? The…

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MINACS Strikes Again

Posted on December 29, 2006

Why does the music have to get turned down at precisely the moment that I say“What a backstabbing hag.”Why do I share a truly inappropriate video clip with my husband when his young, impressionable staff is around? Ok, so maybe they aren’t that impressionable, but still, I’m the boss’s wife. Idiot!Never fails, you try to be witty and it comes back to bite you in the ass. I was sitting at the computer this afternoon working on an HTML email template. My two year old was beside me using her half of the monitor to watch Pluto’s Ball for what I think may have been the 79th time. We had been enjoying ourselves, each engrossed in the what was happening on the computer when…

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