Who is the responsible party here?

 I know why I don’t have children, but sometimes I forget. This weekend was one of the forgetful moments in my life.

Saturday the old man and me hit the town; we just failed to remember that Valentines had fallen during the week and people that have 7+ kids usually do the valentines date on the weekend around here. Since every place was packed past the fire marshals safe capacity, we settled and went out to the Sizzler (cheap-o steak house & all you can eat salad bar) and we had a blast making fun of all the fat people at the salad bar. We like to do that for cheap entertainment… don’t knock it till ya try it guys. Anyhow back to the story at hand…while we are there, there is this crazy grandma that is taking all the grandkids out for the holiday. I love grandma’s that do this cause my cut little granny used to do this for me… and she is spending more time hugging all the grandkids instead of eating. She gets to the end of the line and, no kidding, she hugs some random kid that is just trying to get by.

While on one hand I feel for this poor little old lady, cause she obviously has so many grandkids she doesn’t have a clue who they are because they probably only come around when they want money or gifts, and on the other I think…you crazy little grandma, why didn’t your old man pull out before the 10th child and why didn’t you teach your kids about birth control? You really didn’t need to populate the Earth all by yourself. 

So my old man is a softie and seeing all the kids huddled around granny makes him miss my nephews, so we call them and instead of going to see a chick flick (cause I won the coin toss) we head back to cowgal land to see the kiddos.

When we get there, my oldest nephew, Nick, is sleeping in a cabinet, and the little guy, Zack, is hanging out with his mom and dad watching TV. Wow don’t you people get out?  Do you realize that your son has emptied all the pans from the cabinet and they are all over the floor so he can get in there?  And hello…it’s Saturday night, what are you doing at home watching Elmo’s potty time listening to the accidents happen song for the 20 millionth time this week.

We visit for about 2 hours, playing with the kids and just hanging out. When I decide that I’ve wound up the kids just in time for their parents to try and get them to bed. I did help pick up most of the toys and didn’t make to big of a mess…that was nice of me hun!

The next morning my brother calls the old man and asked him if he wanted to go shopping with him for a new gun…this is something I don’t understand but we won’t get in to that right now, but I ask if my sister in law wants a break from Nick and if he wants to go shopping as well and I’ll watch him.

My brother laughs and said that his wife would love a chance to actually get in to the gym. So we head on over to there place and pick them up. The first thing that should have given me a clue as to how the day would end up was when I told my brother that I could get the car seat in while they got Nick dressed and ready to go. Um yea…I don’t have a clues how the darn thing works.  So after my old man gets the kid dressed and then puts the car seat in for me, we head out to the Wal-mart…big mistake. We already knew what we wanted to buy…Moon Sand Monster truck kit!


 I’ve heard the kids that scream going down the isles because their mom or dad wouldn’t buy them a toy, but I was going to be the super cool aunt that would get him a toy and even a treat if he would be good for me. But what do you do when you see exactly what you want on display and the store is out of the product?

 “Crap…what do you mean I can’t buy the display?”

“Sorry, but the toy department manager is out on Sunday and he makes the final decision on any displays that are sold”

“Can’t you just decide for him…you can’t really expect me to tell the little guy that it’s right in front of his face and that you won’t let him have it.”

“I really am sorry lady, but those are just the rules”

“But I’m the one who has to hear him cry, and look like the asshole that won’t buy him something, can you at least call your other stores and see if they have some in stock for me?”

Well long story short…no one has it. So the screaming kid and me go home to see if we can e-bay this great must have messy toy!

The day goes down hill from there, what do you feed a kid with peanut allergy when you don’t know how to cook and the local dairy queen is closed on Sunday? Well chili from a can of course! Then the kid ends up with a tummy ache and spills the juice all over my couch and tan carpet, and he lets the dog in from outside to clean up the juice. But the dog decides that he wants the left over chili and flips the TV tray that we have been using because aunty thought that the table and chairs were not fun. But lets not forget that the dog was outside because he found a cat turd to roll in earler in the day and it’s way to cold to give him a bath and send him outside and the dog wash is…CLOSED ON SUNDAY!!! So when the old man got home with my brother and we cleaned up all the mess, he asked me if I was feeling a little frisky and if I wanted a little action before bed…I’m sure you can guess what my response was.


3 thoughts on “Who is the responsible party here?

  1. Wow – things look different over here again. But you definitely keep it interesting! LOL. Sorry you had such a bad time with the kid. It’s not always so bad though. And you are a good auntie for making the effort anyway. Don’t give up! 😉

    *I have already made a promise to take him to the zoo this spring…that should be fun!

  2. The zoo? LOL. You are brave! Just kidding. I bet it will be fun. Get one of those kid leash things though cuz you don’t want to lose him in the crowds – that is really tough to explain to the parents when it happens. 😉

    *Oh good call…I’ll look in to that!

  3. I knew a woman, she was prone to say things like, “It ain’t easy being easy.” Sweet girl. Loved her immensely. Whenever she began feeling motherly and wanted a child she would pullout a toy she carried in her purse. No, not that kind of toy. It looked like a giant birth control pill. Push the button and it would scream and cry like a baby. “Cures me everytime,” she would say.

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