Just imagine how organized my life would be if Nate and I had had the foresight to breed like bunnies

Last weekend, I washed all the laundry and made sure that everyone had enough clothes to cover their beds and dressers and half their floors in one carefully tossed fling of a basket.

Then I cleaned the entire house and even got rid of the cobwebs we named Ernie and Bert which had become such familiar fixtures in our foyer, we hung ornaments from them at Christmas.

Then I paid all of our bills, balanced our checkbook, hyperventilated and immediately made reservations for a two bedroom suite at the local homeless shelter.

Then I went grocery shopping, ensured that the pantry, fridge and freezer were stocked, and showed Nate where the oven and stove were and how to turn them on. He was impressed.

Then I left detailed instructions regarding how to change the toilet paper roll, how to rinse a dish, how to hang up a coat and how to use a laundry basket for more than just an end table. No one was impressed.

Then I took a shower and carefully shaved everything in need of deforestation and put on clean clothes including my best bra and undies, which meant that they still had holes and frayed elastic but at least they were once the same color. I was impressed.

Then I updated our life insurance policies and our wills and made sure Nate was up on exactly when to pull the plug, i.e.:

brain stem wrapped around my neck and hanging down my back, resulting in irreversible cessation of brain activity = YES.

Broken pinky toe =  NO.

Then I gave Helena a huge squeeze, covered her face with kisses and through my tears, told her how much I loved her, reminded her that 8 x 6 was 48 and that boys were covered with diseases until she turned 30 or finished postgraduate school, whichever came first.

And then I grabbed the keys, threw fifteen year old Zoe in the car, drove to the empty school parking lot and taught her how to drive.

I’ll post the gory details another time.

Suffice it to say that:

  • My preparations were all for naught
  • The cardboard toilet paper roll is scratchy and not very absorbent



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23 thoughts on “Just imagine how organized my life would be if Nate and I had had the foresight to breed like bunnies”

  1. Avatar

    Don’t you hate reaching for the toilet paper after ridding yourself of the beef roast that’s been marinating in your stomach for the last two weeks…just to find THERE IS NO TOILET PAPER. It took me years to remedy this stressful situation. Instead of keeping the toilet paper in the laundry room…I decided to move it into the bathroom. Even with that situation fixed…it’s still something about walking from the toilet to the bathroom closet that’s just so degrading…lol

  2. Avatar

    *very glad she’s a vegetarian*

    I’m breathlessly awaiting photos. did you take any, or were you too busy screaming? If you shattered the car windows screaming, then you didn’t have to worry about that when you crashed… did you? *giggles* I’m sure Zoe made you proud. Really. =)

  3. Avatar

    Now that is a whole new lot of scary that I want to remain in denial off.

    Here you have to be 17 before you can terrorize others on the roads – what is the age limit in your corner of the world?

  4. Avatar

    *sticking fingers in ears and squinching eyes shut* NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA, I can’t hear you!

    I have just under 10 years left before I have to contemplate this. I refuse to think about it a second sooner.


  5. Avatar

    Yay! You came out alive!!!! Woohoo! At least you had the foresight to prepare your family in case you didn’t come out o.k.! I was dumb enough to just go to the parking lot with mine this weekend! I was a little scared, but no dings, dents, or scratches on the mini van!
    Now this weekend is another story….it’s all about how to back into a parking spot!

  6. Avatar

    I have 7 kids – 4 of them drive now and I’ve never taught any of them to do so!! The closest I came to participating in their driving experience was laying in the back seat with my eyes closed arms over my head while another competent (re: crazy) adult drove around an empty Sears parking lot with one of them. One of my girls turned 16 in March. Every time she mentions getting her permit I look at her like she’s speaking another language and start twitching. So far it’s working…. 🙂

  7. Avatar

    LOL That reminded me of my husband trying to teach me to drive a standard transmission. It was in an empty parking lot and in his brand new truck. Good times. You haven’t lived until you’ve peeled out and laid tracks going in reverse.

  8. Avatar

    How brave of you! We just had the conversation about who was going to teach our 15 yr old how to drive.

    Me: So, which one of us is teaching the kid to drive?
    Husband: I don’t know
    Me: Should I hire someone now?
    Husband: Sounds like a plan.

    ::::shudder:::: This is the same kid who is otherwise brilliant and talented(!) but uttered this statement just a mere 14 days ago: “Wow! I didn’t know buses could back up!”

    She was serious. She said it outloud. There were witnesses.

    And know she thinks she’s going to get MY keys?

  9. Avatar

    Isn’t it amazing how much needs to be done? This post reminds me of when I started to teach my little brother how to drive in the nearby parking lot. I’m still having hot flashes over it. Coming over from Sits and so glad I found you!

  10. Avatar

    LOL, your post highly amused me. When my kids ask me to drive they always get the same reply ‘not on my shift’! Their Dad can take them, and I’m sure they’ll never dare make a mistake.

  11. Avatar

    Don’t make me remember that awful time. It’s more terrifying than the sex talk. Be thankful you have daughters, they’re not quite so into pretending they’re a rally car driver and they don’t smash up your car then 12 months later your husbands vintage ‘racing car red’ Alfa Romeo. Don’t ask!

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