Creeping Through The Cellar Door (none_too_subtle) wrote,
Creeping Through The Cellar Door

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Ya know...some people should put a muzzle on that mouth

...because when they do finally get around to opening it, they are bound to say the WRONG thing to the WRONG audience.

Might I add that I've NEVER ENJOYED speaking with divorced, angsty men who hate...well, pretty much every woman, simply because his last one hated him? Orrrr...I cannot STAND men who pretend to be in politics, yet are illiterate? Believable? Methinks not. In other words -- be careful which group you insult...some of us might take serious offense to it.

No wait. That's someone else's life.
AHAHAHA. So what does Adele do the nanosecond she comes in? She takes INVENTORY OF ALL MY MOVIES, AND THEN LEAVES WITH A STACK AS BIG AS SHE IS. OMG. It's bad enough that she's rummaging through my closet for 'cool clothes to wear' cuz we all know the '80s crap is back in style; but now, she's taking my entertainment along with her.

And she broke my green ball. This is unacceptable.

So she puts her hands on my shoulders, looks me square in the eye and said:

"Mom? Deal with it."

And prisses off to her room, movies, clothes AND ALL. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT. If I'd just employed corporal punishment when she was little, none of this would be an issue. Heh. There are, however, only a very few places she can 'hide' my movies/clothes, and I know all her favorite hiding spots. So I'll lull her into thinking she's actually gotten away with something. After all -- I did go, four different easter malted egg things, then bought a replacement malted milk balls thing (to make up for eating her malted egg things), and ate THAT, TOO. All that's left are a few little crusts of what used to be malted egg things at the bottom of a pink carton. She's mad. Oh yes. Especially since the container changed three times in er...yeah. A very short period of time. SO?????? She owes me. Heh.

This is my room and you're not invited.
OHHH I SEE HOW IT'S GONNA BE. She's all put the 'leave me alone' sign on her door. And THEN, she asked the scary question that I knew was coming up:

Adele: "Mom? I have something serious to ask you."

Me (mortified, but sounding all chill n stuff: "What sweetheart? You can ask me anything..." *petpetpet*

Adele: "You know Andy had highlights in her hair, right? And so do about half -- no MORE -- students at my school also do."

Me: *blink* "Sweetheart? Your hair is naturally highlighted. What's your point?"

Adele: "I was just wondering what you think about maybe me getting just a few highlights. Not much."

UH. HOW DO YOU GET A FEW HIGHLIGHTS?? I went on to tell her that her hair is beautiful (in fact, it's one of her best features), and that highlighting it would lead to a life of split ends and misery. I'm not so sure the speech worked as effectively as the double-piercing speech did, because she added that " hair will ALWAYS grow back out, MOM." All smug; like I'm her peer instead of her mom. That'll teach me for sharing my horrendous, weekly stories with her. Ohhhh yes; I told her about the lil incident and she laughed, and told me "...but you look GOOD IN ORANGE, MOM." AHAHAHAHAH. MY POINT PRECISELY. *cough*

Jailhouz Rawk
Ya, so I missed going to jail but barely, and told her about it (which she found fascinating and funny), and proceeds to start listening to SOME Canadian radio station. I was all *blink*ing, wondering why and where her taste in music came from/changed in such a short period of time?! Her DAD doesn't listen to that crap. *I* don't listen to it. Her STEPMOM doesn't listen to it, either.

Oh no. She has her own ideas. Noooooooooo.

It was bound to happen eventually. But rap?! Pleaz. I suppose it's better than country. But *I* don't hafta like it.


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