Red 98: MIM.

I HAVE A BOOGIE! I HAVE A BOOGIE! I HAVE A BOOOOGIE!!

ON MY PLATE!

MOOOOM, BLAKE…! IS SITTING ON MY FACE…! WITH A…! PILLOW! OW! STOP IT!

MOOOOOOM!

MOM, WHERE’S THE SOCK BAG!?!

These are just some of the complaints I’ve had and you have attended to every single one of them and more, so I wanted to say first off… Thanks J

I never get you anything for Mother’s day and I’m pretty sure you have enough macaroni necklaces and bookmarks to last you a century. So, this year I decided to write a blog post showing how cool of a mum you are (the term cool is used very loosely.. you are still not “hip” or “current” no matter how many times you shout TWINNING and ACO TACO… *which both stopped being cool a while ago. Not that I would know, as I am no cooler than you.*)

You are NOT a traditional mum. You don’t hide anything from us (unless you stole $5 from me... because I keep my money “too out in the open”… My room, on a shelf, behind a Kleenex box, safely tucked away inside my wallet.) Which is pretty cool I guess. Also, when Blake comes home with countless pink slips you’re cool with it because you know hes a dinkwad and I know hes a dinkwad, the school system just hasn’t figured it out yet.

The endearing terms of “whore” and “slut” that shower me with love and respect every morning... I really should have less self-confidence than I have (which, by the way, Blake insists is a “me” problem).

The TURN UP Friday nights we have, when B has a social life (social life… pfft… who needs friends when you’ve got food and internet). The party-party fun nights that entail you watching some obscure history program and me watching Minecraft videos on YouTube and smiling stupidly into the screen (again, no social life). The nights when we turn the coffee table so that it reaches both couches to hold some delectable confection of milk-free euphoria you have baked most recently. Those are the best.

There was this one time that I am remembering now, a really long time ago, we were having one of the aforementioned “turn up Fridays” and you were slightly over tired so, naturally, you were giddy and kind of “spacey” so you threatened that when I got a boyfriend, and I brought him home, you would run around the house screaming “where’s waldo?” in your blue-striped housecoat. This, is why it took me forever to let you meet “Joe”.

My holy grail, going out for sushi without B and trying to figure out the menu, eventually resorting to asking the waiter how to pronounce Edamame.

PUSHEEN. The way we can communicate over Facebook is amazing. All that is needed to communicate emotion is to simply send an adorable Pusheen. Then after the initial shock of the cuteness we can decipher it.

What else?

Well, you let me get a tattoo, so that makes you superdy dooperdy cool. You know what would make you even better? Letting me get another...?

You help me with my writing and encourage me (after you’re done making fun of me).

*people of the internet, my mum really is awesome, it’s just my family is… well... Special?

And we have different ideas of how we show affection (teasing)*

Ok, so you always point guys out in stores, as most mums do. But then you whisper to me “he was totally checking you out” when he was actually just looking at the pretty girl behind me wearing no clothing. Not me. Guys don’t look at me. Just trust me on this one. Or, he was checking out the iceberg lettuce on sale behind me, thinking “why won’t those weirdos move so I can get me some iceberg lettuce!?!” you don’t want to deny growing boys their tasty, green Iceberg lettuce do you? No? Then stop pointing them out so we both can move on with our lives. Thank you, Sincerely, ME and all dem boyz who like themselves a nice hunk of Iceberg lettuce.

No clue where the second half of that came from…

I AM STILL MAD AT YOU FOR NOT SAVING YOUR PROM DRESS. Enough said.

Apparently I got my whore-like dancing tendencies from you so that’s great :/

CHEESY COUPONS