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I Blame Hank Hill

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Earlier this month I was looking forward to getting back to a “normal” schedule for both school and work after the holidays. I hear you laughing.


After just two days of school our county was hit with a little snow precipitation and everyone yelled, “SHUT ’ER DOWN.” People made their toilet paper and beer and wine run, of course, except for me, since I’m on a detox diet for January. Not that I’m BITTER OR ANYTHING.


I ended up attempting to work from home on both Thursday and Friday. This meant the girls watched a little more TV than usual.


Thursday night they were way too quiet and I went downstairs to find them sprawled out on their bean bag watching King of the Hill.


“Hey girls … this isn’t really a kid show. It’s time to turn off the TV and get ready for bed any way.”


“But mommy,” the girls pleaded, “this is so funny.” According to the girls it was the episode where Hank keeps going to the bathroom and he goes to the doctor and the doctor has to, quote unquote, look at Hank’s butt.


Mentally I heard brakes squealing.


Clearly it was time to turn off the boob tube. In fact we’d already passed the exit, the rest area, and the Do Not Pass Go, Do Not Collect $200 For Your Parenting Skills Are Going To Hell In A Handbasket sign.


The girls scampered to their bedrooms as soon as I turned on my mama means business charm and once again there was much lollygaggin’. I could hear shrieks of laughter coming from Miss C’s bedroom. Playing bad cop once again I peeked in to see what was going on.


The girls … my precious sweet angelic children …


were giving each other WEDGIES.


Thank God school was back in session yesterday or we’d probably be watching midget mud wrestling, reading TMZ at bedtime, and eating Cheez Whiz out of a can by now.

First published at BlondeMomBlog


 



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