"Bathe me again...I'll kill you in your sleep."

Riley got a bath tonight. Need I say more?

Thanks Mom...

I have been home with the flu for the past two days, a flu that has been soundly kicking my ass for about two weeks now but got so bad over the weekend that I had no choice but to curl up in the fetal position with a hot water bottle and heating pad while watching crappy daytime TV. My mom called to check in on me and reminded me that I had a fabulous loaf of her zucchini bread waiting for me in the kitchen. When I was finally able to drag myself out of bed to get something to eat, I pulled out the bread and cut myself a slice. I hunkered back down in bed and with the first bite found that my mother had been a little overzealous with the eggs. In fact she had dumped in the WHOLE egg. Shell and all. Surprise! So I called her and demanded a refund.

"I have no sympathy for your pain...The hot water bottle is mine..."

Right now I'm so violently ill I can't even sit up but does my fur wearing demon spawn of a cat care? No. He does not. He has decided that the hot water bottle is serving him better than it is me. No sympathy, I tell ya.

It's About Damned Time!

A Trip Down Amnesia Lane

I talked to my friend Vinnie yesterday who some of you may remember from my earlier blogs as the Captain of the Sinking Ship otherwise known as the DarkSide. Of course, after talking to him, I couldn't help but sit back and think of some of the crazier things that happened in that place. Talk about a good laugh.

I remember one afternoon working with some of my older boys when one of them, Chuck, stood up with a retractable ball point pen in his hand and approached his pal Bobby. Now both of these boys were about 6' tall and around 250 pounds a piece so I generally stood at the front of my classroom hoping to God that Chuck just simply stayed asleep in the corner. Any time Chuck got pissed off his eyes would roll in the back of his head like he was having a seizure and very little could stop him from tearing a room apart. But of course on this particular day Chuck decided to wake up, his eyes rolled back, and he was standing over Bobby, whom he called "Bibby", with a pen poised over his neck.

I waited a minute to see if Chuck would back off but unfortunately he didn't so I knew I had to intervene. I got in between the two boys and said to Chuck, "Chuck, right now you're being a dumbass. A better choice would be to stop trying to shank Bibby with a pen and sit the hell down." And with the grace of God himself, Chuck unclicked the pen, handed it to me, and said, "Ok Miss Kit." And sat down. Five seconds later, his head was on his desk and he was snoring as if nothing had happened.