My husband is wonderful at a lot of things, but giving gifts is not one of them. My first birthday with him he wrapped my gift by stapling a bag closed. Our first married Christmas he got me a can of spaghettios and a box of pop-tarts. (Not a lie…he really went to the grocery store for my Christmas gifts.)
This year I made an easy-to-understand list for him, and anyone else that may be interested in giving me something. These are the five things I want for my birthday this year:
- To stop peeing a little bit every time I sneeze. Having two kids has loosened up…everything. Remember in grade school when kids said if you sneezed with your eyeballs open your eyes would pop out from the violent burst of pressure? That’s basically what’s happening, except on the other end of my body.
- Just one Sunday in which my handsome son doesn’t grunt out a fireball explosion of poop while the pastor is praying. “Lord, watch over the *grrrruunnnnnt* people who *splat splash* need *siiigh* extra guidance today. *pfffft* God Bless *splat squeeeek*…”
- I heard a story once on the radio about a woman in California who guarantees to potty train your child in three days. Her. I want her.
- Death to Dora. Somebody please hire me a hitman-while he’s at it he can finish off Mickey Mouse, Peppa Pig’s entire family, and the bald boss himself-Calliou.
- The ability to watch the Victoria’s Secret Fashion show and say to myself, “meh.” Instead of the obvious alternative-weeping in a mirror.
Last week’s Friday Five: Five People You Shouldn’t Dress Your Toddler As