Month: January 2016

When Everything is Terrible Then Pocky Appears

Sometimes everything is terrible and you’re walking really fast pushing a screaming toddler who won’t fall asleep while you’re on the phone with your health insurance company going, “What is wrooooong with you peopleeeee???” and old ladies keep giving you the stink eye because your kid doesn’t have gloves on because he took them off 25 times in the past hour but they don’t know that they just think you’re a negligent mom and your hair color is making you sad and your neck is sore from when you zipped up your neck skin in your jacket while in a rush this morning and then you whip around the corner and there are two adorable Japanese anime looking girls HANDING OUT FREE FULL SIZE BOXES OF POCKY LIKE ANGELS SENT FROM HEAVEN #blessed


The Jean Genie


David Bowie was magic living on earth in human form. His music would change with each listening. You could hear a song you’d heard a million times and suddenly be like, “Did he just say ‘There’s lemons on sale again’ What the hell is he talking about?” Then you would remember that he was an actual alien, because no human could possibly contain that much talent, and it made sense. And it was perfect. When I was pregnant for the first time I put little speakers on my belly and played lots of songs. Nothing happened, and I was beginning to feel silly until I put on “Jean Genie.” She went completely nuts in there. So from then on it was the only song I played for her, and she did a little fetus dance every time. So when my son came along, I knew what to do. And again, he did a little baby slam dance in my belly. Every time. To this day I think hospitals should use that song to turn breech babies.

It’s Possible I’m on Acid

Jeez lady, do you have a staring problem? Oh wait, maybe you just saw me lean over and scoop up a handful of regurgitated apple skins from the front of my son’s wool sweater and stuff it into my mouth, hairy bits and all. What can I tell you? Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Or maybe you overheard me calling my daughter’s Cheerios her “chocolate goat vitamins.” What can I tell you? Sometimes she gets mad if I don’t call them that, so I’m just being safe. I assure you I’m not on an acid trip, I’m just being a mom.