Conversations. In My Head. Probably. Mostly. Hopefully.

I'm Katie's Girl Scout troop cookie manager this year. I had parents picking up cookies from my house all last weekend.

Ding! Dong!
Me: (opening door) Hi!
Parent: Hi! You must be Martha.
Me: Yep! You must be Cookies.
Parent: Uh, I'm Roy. Spring's Dad?
Me: (in my head, loudly) Blah blah, blibbity blee, whatever Dude, I've already named you Cookies. There's no gettin' out of that now! (out loud) Nice to meet you. The basement's this way.


I read about a new beauty regimen on PinINterest the other day. Then I went grocery shopping.

Me: (in my own head, the middle of the health and beauty aisle, bottle of shampoo in my hand) Huh. Soooo, no-poo. It's a thing. That's really good for your head. Because Poo-Oop-A- Poo POO! Betty Boop said so. (pause) No she didn't. I made that up. Just so I could say Poo-Oop-A-Poo. (flip bottle over, read back) OK. Soooodium lauryl sulfate. That's bad. Because.... Um.... Because.... of no poo stuff. Poo. Poo. Cow go noooo-poooo! (chuckle) Nooo-p- (Look around. Catch another shopper's eye down the aisle.)  oooo.... (Put the bottle back on the shelf. Leave. Quickly.)


I woke up early the other day. But not before all the illness germs did.

Me: (walking, OK stalking, or fine, really, clomping with extra stomping, into bedroom as Jon is getting ready for work) DUDE! The kids are sick. Again. TheyAreAlwaysSick!Aren'tThey?Don'tAnswerThat.TheyAre.EverySingleDayOfEverySingleWeekOfEverySinglMonth! Man! I can't handle this anymore!
Jon: You know, I always thought you were this overly compassionate person. (pause) I don't think so anymore.
Me: (grumpily) Yeah. I'd make a horrible nurse. "Hey you! Why are you back at the hospital! I treated you last week. Get out."
Jon: (in his fake pitiful voice, which sounds a lot like Rob Schnieder from Waterboy, also, don't tell Jon I said that) "But... I have no legs..."
Me: "So? There are people with bigger problems. Deal with it, figure it out, whatever!" Now move. I have stuff to do.
Jon: hahaha! Exactly.
Me: No. Seriously. Move. I have to get to the thermometer. I have stuff to do. Stupid germs.

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