How do YOU know?

Is anyone else dealing with this?  My 8 year old has decided to end every conversation with me with “how do YOU know?” accompanied by the indignant stare (and the sing-songy “you”).

Nothing brings out the worst in me more or better than my kids.  They are truly professionals.

I’m having vague recollections of posing this same question to my own mother.  This, in turn, makes me want to write my 538th apology letter to her since becoming a parent, but until they hook the internet up in heaven, I guess I’ll just have to assume she’s laughing her ass off and eating copious amounts of stale marshmallow peeps while enjoying the show.

So the latest is this …

Guy: Mom, do you think it will be a cold summer?

(and even though he had JUST had a colossal meltdown 10 minutes earlier, I, initially, think how absolutely adorable this is … he thinks because we had so much snow that maybe it won’t get hot this summer … what a cutie!!)

Me: Nope!  I think it will be a hot one!

(with that stupid Mom smile on my face – like “aren’t you just precious”)

Guy: … (indignant stare followed by disgusted look) how do YOU know?

(that “you” goes up and down, by the way – in case you have infants and haven’t heard it yet)

And something in me just snapped.

How do I know?  How do IIIIIIIIIII know, you little fuck?!  I DON’T!!  How about you ask the fucking weather man.  In fact, DO THAT!!  I guarantee that asshole knows about as much as I do!! (no offense, Adam Joseph)

How do I know???  Because, I’ve been around for 39 fucking summers and it ALWAYS GETS HOT!!

How do I know??? Because I went to school for a bazillion years and I’m FUCKING smart (I’m not, but he doesn’t have to know that)

How do I know???   HOW DO I KNOW??? Because, scientifically, the earth’s ozone is disappearing from all my hairspray use and someday we’re all gonna BURN UP!!  SLEEP ON THAT, MOTHERFUCKER!!

But instead …

Me: Just a guess, sweetie.

 

‘You are’ Quizzes: Easily the Stupidest Way To Question Your Entire Existence (Not to Mention Spend Your Day)

I blame the endless snow.  Yes, that’s been my excuse for everything lately.  Because everyone does that groan thing and shakes their head in sad acknowledgment.  Yes, they say, yes … horrendous.  And then somehow I get a free pass.  I’ve done nothing for 6 weeks (shhhhhhhhhh).  Just muttering the word ‘snow’ with downcast eyes.  It’s pretty awesome.

So, once again, I blame the endless snow for the fact that I have been taking Buzzfeed quiz after Buzzfeed quiz trying to, apparently, figure out who I am?  (and waste my own time)

WHO AM I?! – I shout to the universe.  Let Buzzfeed tell me … seer and knower of all things.

And the results are startling.  And, quite honestly, devastating.  Not to mention disturbing.

I am NOT the person on Facebook posting the results of my quizzes with an “Of course!!” or “This is soooooooo me!!”

Nope.  I’m in hiding.  Because apparently I’m extremely odd.  And terrible.  And possibly creepy.  And more than a little weird.  And, again, odd.

I started off innocently enough.  Which character are you on Downton Abbey?  How bad could this really get?  (I was desperately hoping to get the grandmother … you know you wanted her too)

Result: Daisy

DAISY?!  The mousy, annoying, self-conscious, insecure twit girl?  (sorry, Daisy … you fictional character you)  Could there BE anyone worse than Daisy?  I think not.

Ok.  Fluke.  Let’s move on.

What character are you on Game of Thrones?  (of COURSE the Hubs got John Snow … this fit so perfectly that I figured I was a shoe in for Ygritte)

Result: Tyrion

Wow.  Ok.  I’m a man.  Not sure where to go with this one.  Ummmmmmmmmm … yeah, nothing.  Well, that’s not completely true … there may have been some shock and horror … and a lone tear.

What Disney character are you?

Result: Pinnochio

GREAT!  I’m a liar!!!!  Not to mention that, in the previous quiz, where I found out that I am a man, my “male parts” are on my FACE.  Perfect.

What state should you live in?

Result: Minnesota

HUH?!  Have I not bitched enough this winter?  For frig’s sake … eh, screw that … for fuck’s sake!!!  I’m sick of the snow!!!!!  I guess I’d better start working on my yah and you betcha‘s.

Which Muppet are you?

Result: Scooter

This is where I really went batshit with the research.  How in GOD’S name am I like Scooter?  I mean, COME ON!!! (besides, of course, the eyeballs embedded in his glasses, the green track suit, the fact that his mother was a parrot, his “vaguely humanoid” type character, him being a 14 year old male (I do share their sense of humor), his best friend being Fozzie the Bear …)

Actually, this was the most accurate of them all.  Uncanny, really.

But the creme de la creme, you ask?  The piece de resistance?  The ‘How many children should you have?’ Quiz.

Result: 1

A slight problem considering I have 3.  I, unfortunately, shared this as a joke with the kids and the older one began laser-beam staring down the younger two while they started putting on a wildly entertaining show for me so I would “keep them”.

The further I went down this rabbit hole, the more desperate I became to find a quiz that somehow validated who I think I am.

Fast forward 10 hours later …

I found myself at the bottom of a bottle of salted caramel popcorn vodka (yes, it’s as good as it sounds) questioning and analyzing (over and over and over and over … I’m really good at that) my entire life.  And not even just the big things – like should I keep pursuing writing or should I make a 100% effort to eat healthier or should I still be wiping my 8 year old’s ass.  No.  I’m questioning which shoes should I wear to the bus stop!  And which song I should listen to on the radio!!  Should I buy Crest or Colgate?!  AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

For the love of …

WHO. AM. I?!

*All results in this post are completely accurate and not made up for comedic purposes.  I know, right?!?!*

**Also, I refused to take the ‘Which True Detective Character Are You” quiz because I knew for certain I’d be the dead woman tied to the tree and I wasn’t ready to deal with those personal psychological ramifications … I probably would have ended up moving to Minnesota**

Shocking Elimination … and, no, this isn’t a post about what’s going on in my toilet

By now you’ve all heard.  And if you’re anything like me which you’re not, thank god you are absolutely REELING.

And, no, I’m not referring to the reeling, whirling, and spinning you’ve been doing while listening to the Frozen soundtrack … in particular “Let It Go” in which I you have the dance moves choreographed (yes, even the running up the stairs part) while I you belt out the way-too-close-to-home oddly personal lyrics.

No, I’m referring to my dear friend Brooke.

You know, Brooke Burke-Chaaaaaaaaaaaarvet.

I’m sure you’ve been wondering why I haven’t posted anything in awhile.  And while, yes, I’ve been spending scads of quality snow time with my children, in which I’ve been heard muttering phrases like, “why???????????????????????” and “saaaaaaaaaaave me!” and “get your own f-ing lunch!!!”, that is not what’s been preventing me from writing.

It’s been a rough couple weeks for my bestie, Brooke.  She’s needed me.  While she has presented quite the formidable front, she is, truly, dying inside.  (part of that, too, may be that she’s being slowly strangled to death by her own (totally legitimate!) product, the Baboosh Body Unisex Sports Wrap)

This tweet came out and I knew I had to intervene.

We’re at a point now where she’s gouged her own eyes out, people!!!  There’s no other way to interpret this.  This attempt at self-mutilation garnered no sympathy from me, I’ll tell you!!  Her body still looks amazing. Jerk.  And according to her (and ALLLLLLLLLLL she ever talks about), in the grand scheme of life, the body’s the most important thing.  (Can I get an AMEN!!!)  And who needs eyes anyway when you’re married to this hideous creature.

I’ve been encouraging her to get out and DO THINGS.  Don’t share this with anyone, but she would give a three-toed sloth a run for it’s money in the laziness department.

But, seriously, guys, I *heart* her.  xoxoxoxoxo

Anyway, she tweeted this, which gave me hope …

… until I found her (in her trademark sports bra and black capri yoga pants) sobbing at the LA museum she and her son’s teacher took 36 elementary kids to, begging strangers to “LOOK AT ME!!!” … and dancing around a life-sized spotted hyena like a lunatic screaming, “I CAN DANCE!!!  SEE!!!!!!  DO YOU SEE ME, TOM?!”

(and, no, the hyena’s name was not Tom)

Ugh.  That was a low point.

And you don’t want to KNOW what she tweeted before this one went out …

It may have looked something like this …

To be continued …