Thursday, August 29, 2013

All we want to do is eat your brains

First of all, Brian has this weird fascination with zombies. Not in the sense that he really likes them, or wants to be one. More in the sense of actually thinking about how he would survive in a zombie apocalypse. I think the idea of surviving off the land and blowing the undead to pieces with his artillery is what really captures his attention. But I digress.

I think the zombie apocalypse is here. In the form of small beings we call "children". 

I've had some near misses the past few weeks that make me wonder just exactly what happens to your brain when you've had children take over your life.

A few weeks ago, I went to Winco. I had left Allie at home with Brian so the trip would be quick and easy. In theory. I finished shopping and was about to head out into the bright sun when I couldn't find my sunglasses. I looked in my purse, in the cart and then remembered that I had them hanging on my shirt and they probably fell off when I switched my purse from one shoulder to the other. Kicking myself, I backtracked all through Winco and asked at the lost & found. No sunglasses to be found. All hope was lost. I sadly and slowly walked back to the car and unloaded the groceries. As I sat there so forlorn at the loss of my precious sunglasses, I happened to look over and see them sitting on the passenger seat.

Earlier this week, I went to Hobby Lobby to return some of the party supplies that I didn't use for Allie's first birthday. I distinctly remembered holding my wallet as we walked out. We then went to Target and shopped for about an hour. We tried to check out but couldn't when I realized my wallet was nowhere to be found. I knew Allie had been playing with stuff in my purse so I decided to once again, trace my steps through Target looking for my wallet. I checked with the lost & found... again, nothing. Defeated, I walked to the car and started making a mental list of the companies I needed to  call to cancel credit cards and stuff. But I decided to call Hobby Lobby first to see if they had found anything. "Oh yes, two nice ladies found it in the parking lot and turned it in." *face palm*

I've locked myself out of the car twice. Thankfully, Allie was not in the car either time, but still.

I've gone places and as soon as I step out into the blazing heat, remembered that I forgot to put on deodorant.

I've ordered things online and had them shipped to our apartment. Which obviously we don't live at anymore. Whoever you are D Martin in Apt #182, I hope you enjoy that scarf I wanted from Old Navy that is now sold out. At least Old Navy gave me my money back, but I've got a good mind to go storming that place and demand my scarf back.

I don't know why. Maybe my brain was always like this but it just wasn't as noticeable? Or maybe... maybe the developing brain of your child requires a sacrifice. A human brain sacrifice. Which they siphon from the nearest source. Hence, the zombie child apocalypse.

Is that how you spell siphon?