Brothers

I witnessed my boys being true brothers to their little sister today as they gave her advice about boys...


Madi: Some of the boys in my class scream and run away when I try to play with them.


Warrick: Oh, that means they like you.


Madi: What? Why?


Dalton: That's just how boys are.


Warrick: Yeah, if they like a girl, they're mean to them. Let me ask you, are you famous in your class?


Madi: What does famous mean?


Dalton: Do you have a lot of friends? I'm friends with everyone in my class, plus I have twelve girlfriends.


Madi: Well, I have lots of friends.


Warrick: Then you're famous, so the boys like you.


Dalton: Do you have lots of boyfriends?


Madi: Ummm....what's a lot?


Dalton: Well, do you have twelve? Because nobody has twelve...well, I have twelve girlfriends, but I'm pretty famous. You don't have twelve, do you?


Madi: ...


Warrick: It doesn't matter, it goes like this: If the boys say that they like you, then they want to be friends. If they say "I don't listen to girls", that means they like you like you. If they run and scream, that means they love you. But that's gross...I don't like girls at all.

Madi: But I heard you say that you don't listen to girls.

Warrick: Oh, yeah, well I don't. I meant it, though...I'm a boy, so I know when boys are saying what they really mean or when they're just pretending, and I was meaning it. I don't like girls. But those boys in your class just like you.

Madi: :::giggles:::

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I still haven't found my Mystery Machine, so if anyone knows of one that is for sale for $22, please buy it for me and I'll getcha' back. Or I'll make you Interwebz famous.

Death of the Mystery Machine

My Mystery Machine was already sold by the time I got out of the house this morning. If you are the person who bought it, please bring it back, but you can go ahead and paint it green first if you want.

In other news, I HATE Excel. It's all "OMG, write me formulas that don't make frickin sense and I'll make exclamation points and ask if you want help and then not help at all until you DIIIIE" Stupid Excel. I'm pretty sure I could just fill in the blanks easier myself without writing formulas and stuff. It's way too close to algebra for this nerd.

So I came home to see what I was doing wrong, and it turns out I was doing it right. So dang it. I screwed up the test even after I had everything right. This is why I hate algebra...things should make sense.

If I want to know how much I will be paying for a purchase after all payments and interest, I can just do it up on a calculator, no problem. But if I have to write a formula for it, forget it...I don't know how I know the answer, I just know that I know it.

Mystery Machine buyer and Excel, I'm gonna' send the rednecks after you.

Death of Momvan

It's official. Momvan has decided to move on to greener pastures which, for momvans is pretty much being sold for your weight and scrapped for parts...kinda like being a mom, actually. Unless you can find some awesome sugar-daddy who wants to buy the parts to put on you, but you have to have a prettier face than momvan for that stuff, so she's the part-giver, not the part-getter.

Now, I have to find something that fits seven people and costs less than twenty dollars, and then get financing for the twenty dollars over just a year or so...until I can get a frickin job. It's all good, yo. I found a van today on the side of the road for just over twenty dollars. I wonder if they would come down a little? It said "Runs and Drives good" on the window, which, judging from the grammar, means it would be the Best Van Ever. The other window claimed "CLASSIC", and who doesn't want a classic van for just over twenty bucks? I know I do, and not just because I wanna' rename my kids to Shaggy, Daphne, Fred, Velma, Scooby, and the last one would just be Dooby-Doo. And I'm sure that the cloud of smoke that was hanging around it would help the kids chill in the car instead of trying to kill each other. I think we really can't go wrong with the Mystery Machine.

And it's not the real Mystery Machine, guys, so don't go all I wanna come over and get your car's autograph on me, ok? Because my Mystery Machine is white, and needs to be painted, and is also not a cartoon. But if you come over anyway, bring beer and something we can smoke in the van. Also some Scooby Snacks, and by Scooby Snacks I mean boneless buffalo wings. And a babysitter.

It's already a fiasco to pick the kids up from school...the teachers all know the momvan, and I'm the only one picking up six kids from one school, so I am thinking it would just give the kids some extra thing to talk about when they're grown up and in therapy if I bought a Mystery Machine and I've pretty much just sold myself the van as I was writing this post. I hope it's still there in the morning.