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I hate to tell you but...apparently, that washing bibs feeling? It sticks around for a long time...

Excuse me, I have to go switch the laundry from washer to the dryer. *sigh*


Oh, I hate to tell you, but it gets worse. Imagine if you will, a visit en famille to grandma's house. A snow storm happens, and now-graduated from college son assists with snow removal, soaking his pants in the process. Gallant husband washes, dries, and fortunately, is the one to retrieve the dried pants from grandma's dryer, finding the condom that fell out of son's pocket before your mother does...

Suburban Kamikaze

A nice catch.



We are now on our third night of negotiations about garbage and recycling removal from the overflowing kitchen containers. My spouse assures me that he has obtained a solid promise of removal before school tomorrow from the 15 and 18 year olds still living in this house. Wait, I think I had the same (now broken) contract last night. We need a better union strategy. How about Parents United. There is always the possibility of our going out on strike. No more sandwiches on demand.

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