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Woe is Me. . .Woe is Cheeto. . .

Posted May 14 2010 2:44pm

It was a morning. A morning like any other. . .bagels and cheetos for breakfast, defiant dressing, and Alex had a  pinto bean stuck in his ear. After extracting the bean with my neat-o Dr. Mom tweezers (“Yes, you do have to go to school now.”), I walked into the living room to see how far behind schedule we were.

I was irritated, because Zach and Harrison were arguing. NOTHING bugs me more than my kids fighting (cover me with ants and leave me to dry in the sun. . .I’ll like that better). I was even more irritated when I saw the little pile of crushed Cheetos on the rug. I looked at Zach like, “Okay, what the crap?”

He just pointed at the Cheetos, and with a huge sigh said,

“Mom. . .that’s how I feel right now.”

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I had to laugh. I half-expected his little hand to go up to his forehead in dismay. “Seriously? You have created an edible, artistic representation of your mood on my rug? Draaama!! You’re clever. Now get your little toushie in the car!”

“And Harrison. . .don’t eat those Cheetos off of the floor! That’s not okay.”

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