My kids ate my ice cream–but they left the kind they bought for themselves.

They think they like variety. Then they come home and eat all of my vanilla.

Because fuck everything, vanilla is the best.

But we have to buy the other flavors! So that they can eat the vanilla.

Whiiiiiiiiiiiiine.

KIDS ARE NOT ALWAYS POLITE. GOSH DARN IT TO HECK AND BACK.

*cat butt face*

AND THE GOD DAMN FANCY DONUT STORE IS CLOSED TOMORROW.

This is how I know I don’t have real problems and I laugh at myself. This is my irritation for the day. This is the problem.

I mean, my entire body hurts like fire and standing up is sometimes really really hard…

But I’m safe. I’m loved. My family is mostly really considerate and wonderful and loving.

I think I’m going to stop letting them buy other fucking flavors of ice cream. All vanilla. Because then I have no reason to be angry when you finish up a container of ice cream. There will be another vanilla sitting there instead of lime sherbet.

It’s not that lime sherbet is bad. It’s not. There are times when it is perfectly acceptable. But I have to be in the mood. 99% of the time ice cream should be vanilla or get the fuck out. Maybe little pieces of chocolate are allowed to decorate the vanilla goodness.

Maybe.

Ok, so vanilla and vanilla with chocolate chunks.

Acceptable choices to always always always have. WHY DID YOU BRING HOME PISTACHIO AND LIME SHERBET?!?! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?????

If I actually yelled any of this I would be an abusive nasty bully. Instead I’m silently typing it and giggling at myself.

I did talk to Noah first, earlier in the kitchen. He’s very patient with me. He’s good at saying that it’s ok for me to feel irritation even if the kids are behaving fine and I’m fine and…. life is irritating. That’s ok.

I wouldn’t trade them for all the vanilla ice cream that ever was. And even though they are my entire forking world…

THOSE LITTLE TURKEYS STOLE MY ICE CREAM. And left me lime sherbet.

Damnit. That sucks.

This is like that damn Rocky Road that sat in the freezer for months until Noah finally ate it for the kids. Sheesh.

Stooooooop buying other ice creams. You don’t actually like them very much… I don’t like them very much…

It’s not like I was deprived. I could have had a candy bar. I could have had brioche. My life is not hard when it comes to food. Fuck, if I wanted to go to the damn ice cream store this minute I could.

If I wanted to send Noah to the store for ice cream I could. I’d rather be pissy; I guess. And now the baby is trying to suck on my thigh. Guess I’m done being able to type. Fuss.

7.5 months till night weening. I can’t wait.