Wesley's Rejection Letter

Happy Easter. Connor got a giant basket of cheap, lead based toys from China! Plus some "fun size" packages of candy with about 3 pieces each that were fresh sometime back when Charles in Charge was a first-run program!

Wesley, however, got the following form letter from the Easter Bunny.

Dear Mr. Nix,
As you may be aware, our contract with you expired on your 12th birthday. We have enjoyed our relationship and wish you continued success in your future endeavors. We regret any inconvenience this may cause you, please accept the enclosed gift certificate as a token of our esteem.

Sincerely,

E.P. Bunny

Easter P. Bunny, CEO
Easter Bunny Productions
“We get it hoppin’”

It's sad when it happens to someone you know.

Whistling past the graveyard.

Chris's grandmother passed away Sunday morning and while we're sad she's not here, she was in really bad health and is, I'm sure, much relieved to be done with it all. The boys got to see her & spend some happy time together at Christmas.



Here they are together.















So there was that.

We gave her a some Tupperwares full of junk food. She loved her Little Debbie's and such and that's not something a nursing home keeps on hand, with their balanced, low salt meals and other elder abusive crap.

Unfortunately she got too ill to enjoy it and never even opened the boxes they were in. After she passed my mother-in-law, Shirley, gave it back to us so it wouldn't go to waste.

Wesley, a snack cake enthusiast, won't even go near them. He says "it's kind of weird" and " it's dead people food" and he won't touch them. This child has never met a preservative he didn't like and named his favorite cat Fancy Cake after a type of Little Debbie.

Today at lunch he..left..his...dessert...uneaten. Something that has never happened in recorded history. No explanation will change his mind. The kid is cannot be reasoned with and has left an entire box of perfectly good garbage food to their fates (i.e., Connor & the dog).

I wash my hands of the situation.

Adventures in Bad Parenting: Our Bodies, Our Selves

The follwing conversation actually occured. No names have been changed because no one is innocent.

Wes: *hiccup*

Wes: *hiccup*

Me: You know, there are people who've had hiccups for years.

Wes: No there *hiccup* aren't. You're just *hiccup* messing with me *hiccup*.

Me: No, I'm not, Google it. One guy had them for more than 50 years, I think

Wes: clack, clack *hiccup*, clackity, clack clack "OH MY GOD, 68 YEARS??!?

Me: See? Wes: What would you do *hiccup* if you had a kid that had hiccuped *hiccup* for years, mom?

Me: Sell tickets.

Wes: You are just the wo*hiccup*rst kind of person

Me: SEE THE HICCUPING FREAK, ONE DOLLLAH!

Wes: You suck. *hiccup*

Me: Okay, everybody that wants a crap sandwich for dinner hiccup right now!

Wes: ...glare...*hiccup*

Me: bwaahahahaha. Okay, everybody who wants to make out with the guy from X Files, hiccup right now!

Wes: ...glare..*hiccup*.

Me: bwahahahahaha. *clapping* Yay, I found a new activity!

Wes: everybody who *hiccup* thinks Mom is a pain in the ass hiccup now *hiccup*

Me: ~blank stare~ Go to your room, son.