Thursday, July 7, 2011

I burned my face with sulfuric acid.

Last night, just a little. I’m fine!

There isn’t really a story to go along with that except that our shower keeps getting plugged up with my <singing> “long beautiful HAY-er!” and yesterday I took my can-do attitude to Lowes and told the man “I don’t want Drano. I want what the plumber would charge me $100 bucks to come put down my drain.” After which he proceeded to sell me goggles, rubber gloves, diaper cream and a gallon of sulfuric acid. I waited until Jon was home and the kids were asleep, then, with the care of a general surgeon, I wiped diaper cream all around the porcelain by the drain to protect it from the acid, opened the jug, and poured out a pint.

Let’s just say I won’t be asking for the scalpel anytime soon since I wobbled just enough to allow a teeny tiny spec to splash up on my bottom lip and HOLY MOLEY! This is not a joke: that stuff could melt off your face. I think it was worse simply because when it happens you’re not sure how much is on you, but you still have to remain calm and move slowly and ask your husband to “please get it off. Right. Now.” and it certainly doesn’t help if he looks both afraid and amused at your expense while he does it.

Never in my life have I appreciated my pre acid ability to simply snatch myself away from the heat and swear like a sailor!

Calm pain, the slow burn… that’s how we mothers take it.

Anyway, I just thought it would make for a catchy title. I’m actually here to share something else. Something serious and probably not appropriate for a blog.

I’m in love with another man.

Several actually. It’s complicated! For the most part Jon seems to understand, but I know it’s been difficult scheduling our lives around all my new beaus, watching me hug and kiss them on the beach, or snuggle up on the couch to watch a show… it can’t be helped:

My nephews are in town! My sister has to fly home to Baltimore on Friday with only herself to manage three small children on the flight, so I’m not sure I’ll even need to try that hard to get her to leave me one. Or both. BOTH. All I can really say is I’m not sure I’ve ever been so aware of another persons LIPS or TEETH or little boy HAIR as I am with those boys. They are SO. RAD. They certainly don’t want their aunt kissing them all over their smudgy faces, but I don’t care. If I had an ample bosom I would totally put on too much make-up and perfume so I could smother them properly.

I simply don’t know anyone who knows HOW to make an ugly or boring boy child. You think I’m kidding? My college roomie has added a few extra boys to her crew hoping at the end there that a girlie baby would show up, but SHAME! This friend of mine already has 4 boys so beautiful that they could be on the cover of romance novels for the 2 to 8 year old female demographic.

Don’t get me started on my other roommate who is about to have boy number FIVE! Though hers are not romance novel types, but if kids could be in cigarette ads they would all make excellent Marlboro Men. I would not be surprised if she called me tomorrow and told me the older two took up shaving. Who ever met an 8 year old with a 5 o’clock shadow? Handsome little devils with great big brains I tell ya.

And my neighbors all have boys I would snatch away if I didn’t know I could go right outside to see them whenever I really need a fix. My friend Joanna’s two year old son is the single most serious person I have ever met! I kid you not, Jon and I regularly have to restrain ourselves from handing him our wallets because we have no doubt he could handle our money better than we ever could. Plus he does all this on the most spectacularly fat ham hock legs I’ve seen since my own charmer was stomping around on his own toddler tree trunks. 

I have to stop! This could easily turn into a bible scale yawn fest if I try to track and record all of the scrumptious boys sprouting at the bottom of my friend and family tree. Which is probably why I’m so obsessed with this right now. I grew up with all sisters and mostly aunts! I never had friends who were boys, and besides a few boyfriends and my hunky husband, well… I’ve been a pretty boyless person who is suddenly surrounded by tons of gloriously stinking weirdo's!

Oh my gosh, (last one!) my nephew Sean? Well, I won’t even get into the time, prayers, money, and more prayers that went into getting that kid to his very steady and somewhat reserved parents, and how he popped out with a banjo and the vocabulary of a thesaurus. I like him (a LOT) but I like him even more because he is SO indifferent to his parents nature, and that makes his mormon mother curse and laugh. He is one of my favorite people on the planet.

Oh boy, I love all these little men! The list of boys I’m leaving out is shameful, I might have to make “In Praise of Stinking Boys” a regular column to keep up with them all. Anyway, I have a long overdue slideshow from a visit we had a while back from my roomie with the beautiful boys. Go ahead, watch it and tell me you feel sorry for her that she didn’t get that girl…

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