Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Buttons, buttons, who knows my buttons?

April 22, 2009

I'm a woman with many buttons. Screeeecccch!!!! Did I just call myself "woman"? Ouch! Might as well be ma'am. Let's try again. I'm a young, un-wrinkled, ageless beauty with many buttons.

What are buttons supposed to do? They're made to trigger something. They're made to cause reactions. They're made to go off.

If you're one of my Yahoos (which obviously you're not, since I've grounded the kiddies from reading my blog in that it might reveal who their mother really is)... again, if you're one of my Yahoos, note that my largest and most reactive button is the one you press when you cannot find your shoes.

At our house there are two (not one, mind you) TWO designated receptacles for shoes. The shoe basket and the closet of your ownership. I don't enforce this rule because I'm a neat-nazi. It's not the clutter that bugs me. What bothers me about the lack of shoe placement is the mad where-the-hell-are-the-shoes dash that happens 30 seconds before you need to be somewhere.

Yes... my can't-find-the-shoes button causes an eruptive genetic outpouring from eighteen of my angriest ancestors.

Bad morning. Now we're going to watch Yahoo #1 do his walk-a-thon in sandals. Natural consequences folks... natural consequences.

5 comments:

Winder said...

Yahoo should consider himself fortunate that this event didn't occur last week (or maybe unfortunate; the lesson might have really hit hard). He would have been in sandals in the snow.

Mandee said...

lost shoes send me over the edge- especially when they are snow boots. Because how-in-THE-hell do you lose snow boots?

I need a xanax just thinking about this.

tom lindsey said...

LOL.

Somewhere in my GB's of storage I have a pic of my kid walking in Arches without shoes. Before becoming a father I would not have thought it possible to lose your shoes while walking or riding in a car or that a closet would be stuffed with singles.

I will share one of my "hot buttons":

My wife leaves cupboard doors open. In her world there is no close, just open. This is annoying but harmless when you are 5 foot nothing as you can walk under the opened doors. Fast forward to 2 am when I stumble into the kitchen for a drink and then off to the bathroom for steri-strips or an eye patch.

I have no idea what xanax is but I am off to get some ... if I could only find my keys ;-)

meg said...

I don't have a witty response. I just thought this was superb.

The MacMizzles said...

I relish in the shoe buttons, they are the epitome of good parenting, and remind me when I want to give into my children, how cute the whimper was when yahoo #2 danced through the snow at my casa. that was another flwaless parnting moment.

PS. this was brilliant: "Yes... my can't-find-the-shoes button causes an eruptive genetic outpouring from eighteen of my angriest ancestors."