Monday, June 21, 2010

when pms attacks

The Kid: hey, when are we going to Target?

Me (changing into the third different t-shirt in five minutes): guh, never

The Kid: Why not? We need dog food and vitamins and... whatever else you said we needed

Me: because I look gross

The Kid: What are you talking about?

Me: my hair looks gross, my face looks gross and every t-shirt I put on looks gross... could I be any further from cute?

The Kid: You're cute!

Me: You're just saying that because you want to go shopping

The Kid: no... not totally

I give him a dirty look, change into another shirt and frown at my reflection.

The Kid (running over to hug me): You're always pretty, Mom!*

aww, I thought, if he just had a supply of dark chocolate in one grubby little hand and some pretzels or chips in the other grubby little hand, everything would be great!

The Kid (still hugging me): ... except when you wear your glasses. Then you look like a bug.

Are these adorable, or what?
my glasses are NOWHERE NEAR this cute. 
It should be noted that even if I had these, though, I would look like an insect since my prescription is high enough to use on the freaking Hubble telescope

*for reals, this is one of the only suggested methods of dealing with me when I'm in that state. Another suggested method is to go straight to offering a combination of salty and sweet snacks. Un-suggested methods of dealing with me in that state include calling me crazy, telling me to "get over it" or thinking you should just ignore me until it passes. 


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