Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Rob's delicate flower

"My delicate flower"
That's what Rob calls me. Not because I'm like a beautiful petunia that you want to not touch for fear of hurting it. Because its the opposite of me. Because I have diarrhea of the mouth. I open and crap flies out. The previous sentence is an example of my delicate flowerness.

I have been known to call myself a fat a$$ at a CHURCH. I have told embarrassing gross GI nurse stories at a dinner table, while people are still eating. One time, I got the movies Monsters Ball (starring Billy Bob Thorton and Halle Berry) mixed up with the animated child friendly movie Monsters Inc. I then proceeded to warn someone that said they were going to show Monster's Inc to their kids that "I heard there was some nasty Billy Bob Thorton porn in that movie." I have no cork. I have no bubble that I can take back, like they can in cartoons. I have very little filter.

So, this is why, when my poor, helpless, unborn 20 week fetus was named a boy I said we saw his "cash and prizes." I HATE names for genitalia. Not that I try to infuse them in everyday life, but especially kid genitalia. UGH wee wee? GROSS! Pecker? Not even cool. Little thing? That just sounds WRONG.

Here are some other funny and useful choices that don't give me the creeps, but make me the delicate flower that I am. I'll do a Mad Lib.

On the baby's ultrasound we saw his ___________ (noun).
1. Cash and prizes
2. Frank and beans
3. Shmekel.

Sorry baby. God decided, you get me and all my glory. At least you have your dad to help.

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