Overheards

SCENE: My house. Getting ready for bed last night.

Me: Why didn't you tell me I had orange stuff all on the side of my face? What is that?!

H: Oh. I thought it was for your zit.

Me: Nice. NO!

H: Well, that thing is scary. It was talking to me during dinner saying, (using a voice as if the zit has possessed him) "H! ME HUNGRY! GIVE ME CHOCOLATE! HOT CHA CHA. ME WANT HOT CHA CHA!"

Me: That is so mean! As if I don't feel bad enough with T.D. touching it today saying, "OW! boo-boo Momma! Ow!!!" with my bad hair that desperately needs a haircut, my Santa bowlful of jelly belly right now and now this zit. Which isn't that bad!! You are so mean. Do I say mean things to you about your gray hair? No! I don't point out things like that on you. (I scoot to the other side of the bed and turn my back to him.)

H: Awww honey... I didn't mean it. (A bit of silence) You know this gets me thinking, now I know what I'm going to get you for your birthday.

Me: (Silence, deep controlled breathing.) I swear it better be a weekend away and you are not about to make some joke about a zit-zapper.


Twelve hours later....

Changing T.D.'s a.m. diaper.

T.D.- Oooh! Momma! BOO-Boo! Boo-boo Momma, boo-boo! Ooohhh!


I'm going back to bed. If anyone needs me I'm the one with a bag over my head.


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