You can dress us up …

Last week, I’m in the coffee shop, working away in my little corner, when Bobo stops by to hang out. He sits on the stool opposite me. A few minutes into our conversation, the gentleman at the table directly behind Bobo packs up his laptop, comes over, says, “I have to unplug,” and in reaching for the outlet, quickly disappears under our table.

At which point Bobo drops a huge fart.

Silent, but huge all the same.

The guy nearly cracks his skull on the table, beats a hasty exit, and Bobo begins laughing uncontrollably. I begin laughing uncontrollably. Soon we are coughing in unison, trying to catch our breath.

My family is SO not PC. Someone should have censored Bobo’s bunghole with a giant black bar YEARS AGO.

There are PLENTY of other un-PC things in Pie World. A few that come to mind …

1. The word UNITARD.

“MP, hurry up and get into your unitard — we’re late for gymnastics!”

Wrong on so many levels.

2. THIS kid’s name.

Technically, not REALLY un-PC, just a poor spelling choice I suppose. Bet he’s a hit at Hanukkah though.

3. This idea for a Swap Mamas t-shirt.

Bow chicka wow wow.

Can’t take us anywhere.

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On the bright side, there’s no litter box.

Right now The Boy and I are trying to figure things out. Who goes where. And when. Big changes. For all of you who want to know details! details! details! here’s the plan to date.

Uh … I dunno.

The good news is we’re both on the same page.

So, MP and I are heading to Connecticut next week to stay for a month. There, I’m confident we’ll magically find the answer to all our questions, and come July there WILL be a plan. Rosie will be staying behind with Grammy and Poppy, because a round-trip DOG ticket costs as much now as a round-trip HUMAN ticket.

As for the other “pets,” I don’t know …

When I came back from my April visit, I brought back Sea Monkeys. (As far as MP knows, they’re the state animal.) Now they sit on the kitchen window sill — unbelievably, still alive — totally grossing me out. Contrary to the illustration on the box, they do NOT drive convertibles. The Boy says they’re brine shrimp. What ees this “Brine Shrimp” you speak of, Boy? Those floaty insect-things in that container full of dirty water? THIS is why I don’t do seafood. Shellfish. Nothin’ but BUGS. That hide under rocks. Yech.

MP’s added them to her list of pets. There’s Rosie (the dog), the jar of earthworms (which sat in a closed coffee tin in a hot bathroom for a week. Unbeknown to me, MP was adding water each day “so they had something to drink.” Eventually, the stench was so unbearable, I was convinced there was a massive issue with the septic system. I was two steps from calling a plumber when I discovered the can. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat chicken noodle soup again.), the two ladybugs in her bug house that I’m pretty sure are dead, and now the creepy Sea Monkeys.

Plus, she scored a caterpillar at the zoo the other day. It’s keeping the ladybugs company in the bug house. She took it to school for Show and Tell today. And she insists on sleeping with it at night. I’m crossing my fingers it starts cocooning before it suffers the same fate as its roommates.

I do have to admit, we’re BOTH looking forward to seeing our first lightning bugs. I suspect that somehow, by the end of the trip, a few will be coming home with us.

Dead or alive.

Because clearly, I’m a giant perv and have far too much available space in my head.

A few nights ago, after excruciating efforts to find the absolute BEST deal out there, the Boy and I bought two plane tickets (Over $1,000 for two people?? Okay … what? Mmm hmm … bend over?). MP and I will be heading to Connecticut in a few weeks and staying for about a month. The goal, of course, being slow acclimation, and to see how MP reacts to it all.

I’m gonna be honest. I LOATHE humidity. And the ginormous bugs that go along with it. And helluuu Lyme Disease. But I do love the beach. So, I’m optimistic that between the three, it’ll be a wash.

I HAVE to see The Boy SOON though, because seriously? I’m counting every hour. Mama needs some lovin’. This weekend’s Facebook banter only made the wait all that more excruciating.

I give you Friday afternoon’s status update: Totally okay with the box of cookies I just ate. Because I bought an EXERCISE BALL today. (Four-square anyone?)

Innocent enough, until Beej got into the act and the ball talk started: I have two exercise balls, and I often eat cake while playing with my balls. I like the way my balls feel under me.

(I love that crazy beyotch.)

I, of course, had to push the envelope. I give you the NEXT status update:  Telling you the dog’s licking the carpet, and opening it up for comments. I’m HANDING this one to you people. After the LAST status update’s comments, I know you have it in you.*

*That’s what she said.

Sadly, the participation in this one wasn’t as strong. Like, lead balloon. Cowards. The lot a ya.

The seed was planted though (ahem), and the rest of the weekend, any comment I thought to post had innuendo aaallll over it.

Rain is pouring through the cracks in the door and now the carpet is drenched. (Really happened.)

The back door, she’s gonna blow. (This? A little gross. I’m happy to report it didn’t happen.)

Playing tiddlywinks. (Really, truly. And I don’t know WHY this sounds dirty, it just does. Like code.)

Surfing the web wasn’t safe either.

Nice mugshot. You think she knows she has a vagina on her face?

See?!? The s*x. It’s EVERYWHERE.