After the boys were delivered yesterday morning, BB immediately went over to the computer and started surfing the internet and typing away for dear life. The reason? He has a Social Studies project that is due on Tuesday. He found out about it before Christmas break and just started on it. When Sweety asked him why he waited this long, his reply? “Well, I told you two about it when break started.” WTF? Is it my mother grabbing job to tap dance on your head and make sure you keep up with your shit? You spent all Christmas break bitching about being bored and it did not enter your pea brain that maybe you should work on your project?
So he continues typing away and tells us that he has to do a 500 word report. It appears that he’s getting there and we leave him alone.
Sweety bowled yesterday and I went with him so I wouldn’t have to sit at home and glare at BB for being a little sloth. I decided that it would be my “cheat day” on my diet. I love bowling alley food almost as much as I love carnival food. Wait, that’s a lie. I love carnival food WAY more than bowling alley food but I didn’t have a carnival that I could go to. Anyhoo…
By just after noon, I had swigged back enough tequila on my nearly empty stomach to put me three sheets to the wind. I was eating a plate of nachos with Sweety. I had half of an ice cream sandwich. Life is good.
I get in the car and sleep it off on the drive home.
We get home and after I read the rules for the project, realize that it needs to be at least 1500 words. I had to show BB this, in print, several times before he believed me. He had not even read the packet of instructions. *insert bloody thump of my head against the wall here*
I went and laid in the bed at about 9 last night just because I was feeling so very unsociable about the whole thing. And maybe I was a little hungover too. Usually, Sweety gives me a hard time if I take a nap but I explained that I wasn’t napping, I was just saving the house from my presence.
We got up this morning and went to the bookstore (and bought fucking books because the library was closed. I will whip the cost of books out of BB’s hide.) for books about Harry S Truman and he read them and has been working on the paper all day. He showed me his “finished” project a bit ago and it is exactly half as long as it needs to be. I went over it and asked him some questions that he could find the answers to and write about to lengthen it up.
I have spent much of my at home time today in the bed, wadded up with Tiny Dog. It was ignore my family or eat a whole bunch of stuff while stomping around the house. Sweety knows that I like to eat when I’m annoyed (or happy, or sad, or bored) so he has been kind enough to leave me be.
I don’t care if he is up all stinking night long and types his fingers to bloody nubs. I am not bailing him out on this one. I will go over it and make sure that things are spelled correctly but that is it.
Oh! He just brought it back to me and he has 881 words. A wee bit shy of 1500, eh? Oh, the sighs that I get to hear as I deliver the word count to him! It’s like angels singing! Harelipped angels with emphysema.
15 Comments, Comment or Ping
“Oh, the sighs that I get to hear as I deliver the word count to him! It’s like angels singing! Harelipped angels with emphysema.’ You are too expressive and kind in your description of BB. hahaha! Harry Truman?
No wonder he blew it off so long!
My sons used to pull that stunt of me!
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Chickie said:
January 11th, 2009 at 8:06 pm
Yes. Harry Freaking Truman. Know how many books we found about him that weren’t giant adult books? None. We did get 2 books about all of the Presidents though. Why couldn’t he have picked Abe Lincoln? There were books about him all over the damn store.
We’re at 1185 words now and he is one sighing fool. I want to tape his mouth shut.
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January 11th, 2009 7:39 pm
Tell him to use lots of adjectives to bring up the word count.
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Chickie said:
January 11th, 2009 at 8:25 pm
He is. It just isn’t enough though.
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January 11th, 2009 8:20 pm
Ugh I’m dreading the day when Sam has projects like this. Maybe I’ll home school her and we’ll skip the “required words” part of things. ;)
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Chickie said:
January 11th, 2009 at 8:25 pm
If I had squirted him out, we’d be homeschooling or going to a private school. They schools here suck donkey balls.
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January 11th, 2009 8:22 pm
And then again…he has to take responsibility for his own “inactions.” You are doing a superior job as the COAEW apparently could give 2 shits. Procrastination is the operative word of kids that age…as you can see. And you think this teacher is going to read every freaking word??? Scary!
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Chickie said:
January 13th, 2009 at 9:24 pm
I don’t figure the teacher will read it all. But I figure they’ll notice if it’s not even half as long as required. And I’m a bitch like that.
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January 11th, 2009 9:41 pm
You are doing the right thing. Little booger.
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Chickie said:
January 13th, 2009 at 9:24 pm
Little booger? You are so much kinder than me.
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January 11th, 2009 10:11 pm
Way to go, Bad Mom! I hope to be exactly like you!
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Chickie said:
January 13th, 2009 at 9:25 pm
Thank you! I am flattered. :)
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January 11th, 2009 11:26 pm
Nope – I own the crown for Mean Mom. Just ask Madison.
harelipped angels with emphysema. I love you chickie. What hell we would wreak as a team! Bwaa haaa!!!
I am jealous because our bowling alleys only sell beer – not tequila and they do make the tastiest grill items don’t they?
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Chickie said:
January 16th, 2009 at 9:56 pm
NO! I’m Mean Mom. And I will beat you ass and steal back my crown! It’s the only crown I have! Ahem. Just kidding. I won’t beat you. But the crown is shiny and mine.
Lady, we have got to get together sometime! I’ll have to let the year go on by a bit. Maybe we could visit sometime when I am “sick”. Another, Ahem.
I love bowling alleys with bars. There’s nothing that says “I’m a drunken mess” by drinking tequila out of little disposable plastic cups like you’d drink Nyquil out of.
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Chickie said:
January 16th, 2009 at 9:57 pm
And I mean “your ass”. See how upset I get when someone threatens my crown?
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January 16th, 2009 12:58 pm
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