Queen of Rambles

I promised Mike I would make this super fast. Faster than a bunny hump. How fast does a bunny hump? Why is hump my favorite word? I have a feeling I would like the Hump song that I see dissed all over the Internet if I ever listened to non-country music. Can you believe they took CMT off my cable? Now it’s only available for digital customers. I should send a diaper full of toxic orange poo to the person who made the decision. Not that I ever watched it anymore. It had gone the way of the rest of the music programs and forgot it was supposed to be about music. You know who REALLY deserves a big diaper full of toxic orange nastiness? The person who decided to cancel Joan of Arcadia. Yes, I’m still bitter. I really want to buy season 2 on DVD but it is not available as far as I can see.

Since I’m supposed to be writing faster than a bunny humping, I don’t have time to tell a well crafted tale. Instead, I’ll direct you to Julie’s take on her visit which includes a picture of my husband’s butt and my son’s tuft. Sometimes it looks more like a crest. He is a Black Crested Snub Nosed Swede. He has a bird boy look about him, so the name is appropriate.

It’s been a very dull day here at the Possum house, which is never a bad thing. The boy must be going through a growth spurt because he slept for five and a half hours. I had to keep checking his breathing to make sure he wasn’t dead.

Adventures aren’t very forthcoming when you are sitting on the couch with a baby on your lap. Do you want to hear something completely outrageous though?

The phone rang and I answered, like a fool. It was one of those annoying telemarketing schemes where a computer asks you to hold for the next available telemarketer. Do people actually do that? How lazy can those telemarketers get? I’ve seen this number come up several times and decided I would hang on the line and get my name off the list. After a five minute wait (HELLO! You want to sell me something I don’t want and I have to wait five minutes for the privileged???), a woman came on the line and I launched into my “I have a baby, take my name off your list” spiel. I didn’t even yell or anything. Before I could finish she HUNG UP ON ME! I am completely floored. It’s not every day you get a telemarketer to hang up on you.

I’m getting The Look from my very tired husband, so I guess I better wrap this up. He has a brutal week this week and next, the poor fellow. The persnickety Australians are in town (not saying all Australians are persnickety, just these two in particular, though I think one might actually be British) and they are trying to take care of business. Bah.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, January 24th, 2006 at 7:02 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.