Bless Your Heart!...

Bless your heart! It's a southern term used almost as much as I love you in these parts...but be warned,  should someone ever say that to you, question a.) what you just said/did/didn't do or b.) if you forgot to...say...put on pants.

Reflecting on my summer vacation thus far, I realized today whilst driving like a crazy mad woman on fire responsibly home with Raffi tunes blaring from the back seat of my car all of the 'blessed people' I have come across.  (If you have never heard of Raffi then you are missing out on some quality musical talent my friend!...If you are three.  years.  old.

Bless your heart:
-the nice drive thru lady at Arby's who gave me back two too many pennies (really?!  I've worked drive thru jobs in high school and college.  Counting back change isn't hard.  Especially pennies...)

-the Target employee walking around with your fly wiiiiide open.  Dude, double check yourself!  And no, you're not cool hitting on the soccer mom in spandex that's about 2 sizes too small...uh oh, maybe two bless your hearts are due on this one!

-the 982nd person who stops me in public and comments on how crazy it is that my twins are so identical.  THEY ARE 11 MONTHS APART!  I know that's a hard concept but obviously one is not even near talking and the other one could practically sing Ha Ha Thisaway (Raffi....le sigh...)

-Marketing/Pricing Lords of Walmart and Target and all chain stores that sell toddler underwear and think I'm going to spend more on my daughters panties that she is going to CRAP in than my own underclothes.  You are insane.  Nuts.  Off your rocker.

Potty training is supposed to save us weary mothers MONEY so we can avoid buying pull ups that are already like $89753987 a box so we can afford to get a hair cut more than ONCE a year.  Get my drift?  No?  Look closely at my dead ends...wait, you don't have to squint, clearly my hair is one step closer to horsey HAY.  Seriously, a cow stared at my hair and drooled when we were in Texas...

Side step-- I can't BELIEVE my kiddo is in undies...can you say panic attack??!!

-the creator of pajama jeans.  I can say this, I promise.  Of course I'm from Oklahoma and that should be a given in itself that I have at one time owned a pair.  Don't judge...I was pregnant for TWO years!  By the time I was done blasting babies out of my...business...I had zero fashion sense and awareness of how ginormous my rump had gotten...I was living proof that spandex was most definitely a privilege and the Fashion Police needed to cut up my 'style card.'

-the inventor of these:

That just happened.  Sadly I'm sure the people who are 'such food geniuses' are making quadruple what I make... 

-and finally, wait for it, you ready?  TO THE HOMEOWNERS ASSOCIATION PRESIDENT AND TREASURER who just mailed us an invoice stating we owe them $890 in 'back HOA fees' plus 12% 'late fees'.  Clearly you didn't get the memo.  We have two small children in diapers.  We have only lived in our subdivision for 4 months.  I'm a teacher.  In Oklahoma.  I don't drive a Range Rover.  We don't eat organic grass fed beef a jus with Don Perion every night.  Hell, we probably couldn't even afford a stupid 'hot dog slicer'.  So you can take this sweet little invoice of ya'lls...and shove it in your garbage disposal file it under 'never gonna happen'.  And bless your heart for even having the nerve to waste a stamp on that precious welcome letter.

Bless my heart for even attempting to write with two fussy hungry children...fail...

XOXO Summer