...no one should really be calling Lady Gaga "shocking" anymore. Is everyone not used to it, yet?
...jeggings are pretty much the worse thing since.....I can't even think of a comparison.
...the only socially acceptable way to say that you're having sex nonstop is "we're trying".
...spit-up (due to teething) is the most rancid smell ever. Actually, I hesitate calling it a smell. More like a fume.
...parenting is hard. It'd be so much easier to give in to what Jake wanted all the time. But, dear general public, rest assured Jake, and all our other players to be named later, will never be the kid(s) you don't want to invite to the birthday party, or don't want your child sitting next to in class. The part of the population that spawns from me and the hubs are going to have their shizz together. I promise, general public.
...Saturday Night Live is way better than Mad TV, although I love both :-)
...Angie is totally busted for implanting that "Barbie Girl" song in my head! Even Jake gives me the side-eye when I'm walking around singing it!
...the boots that, literally, just showed up on our doorstep all of a sudden made my waking up with a headache and starving completely bearable :-)
...it's OK to automatically question the grown men who like dressing in skin-tight leotards and dancing for children.
...sexual deprivation is one of the top 5 ways to torture an Army wife.
...everyone should be made aware that there are twenty shopping days left 'til my birthday, even less if you're shipping something to me ;-) I kid, I kid.... kinda.
...almost nothing is TMI once you become a mama. Seriously, there are no boundaries between me and my amigas anymore. None.
...the fact that Jake gives my not-as-smooth-as-if-hubby-were-home legs the stinkeye does nothing for my ego. Yesterday, he rubbed my prickly leg, looked at it like he was rubbing the most disgusting thing on Earth, then, leaned over, and spit on my leg. Thanks, my love.
...there is nothing wrong with my desire to sustain my life via a diet of Cheddar & Sour Cream Ruffles. It's like Heaven in a bag.
I won't ask what you believe in because, clearly, this is in jest. So, how about....what spastic thoughts run through your mind?! :-)