- have a car whose interior resembles a mobile landfill site/Salvation Army collection box/toy library*?
No word of a lie, I just took the following out of my car: two hoodie sweatshirts (kid size), a Bratz doll, a Polly Pocket boot and purse, an empty McDonald's french fry bag, two popsicle sticks, an apple core (ewwwww), a ripped-up coloured-on page from a colouring book, a chewed-up wad of gum (I threw out my gum, honest, Mom), a ripped road map of Ontario (grrrrr), 4 kleenexes (kleenices??), 2 french fries, 2 King Tut sarcophagus happy meal toys from Wendy's (they always have the coolest toys), a small mauve unicorn with a Barbie-hair mane, a Tim Horton's bag, and a drinking straw.
- have a laundry room where the piles of clothes look like a relief model of the Rockies?
I really think that David Suzuki oughta do a Nature of Things special on my laundry room. No matter how many loads I do, there is always more. It's breeding, dammit! Who knows, maybe he could capture time-lapse photography of a litter of baby socks being born, or teeshirts mating.
- who resolves to lose a few pounds get seized with an uncontrollable hunger 5 minutes after making the decision?
Yep, thought there was a bit too much muffin top going on with the jeans I was wearing. Told myself sternly, "Self, it's salads for a week or so to get this under control". Immediately, and without really being aware of what I was doing (body reacting to threatened diet and going into self-preservation mode), I found I had somehow had taken the box of Jos. Louis out of the pantry (bought for special treat for the girls and rationed) and consumed 3 without noticing. The only clues were the 3 empty wrappers and the chocolate crumbs on the carpet. (Clarification, they were the half Jos. Louis, not the whole circle ones -- I'm not a *total* pig.)
- feel like they can never get ahead of the housework, and their houses are where entropy goes to practice?
Seriously, I can't keep my house tidy for more than half an hour at a time. As soon as one room is cleared, a tide of Littlest Petshop figures, Polly Pocket shoes, hair and Lego pieces washes in and laps around my ankles. Not to mention the lawn that grows fast enough to track with a radar gun that needs mowing every 48 hours. Sigh.
- on Facebook who wants to find old University friends and work buddies have friends with names as common as dirt?
Yeah, you try finding Dave Evans, Nick Gibson, Suzanne Scott, or Trudy Miller when you don't know where they're living now or if they're even *on* Facebook. I've been reduced to 'friending' my nephew and my girlfriend next door, for Pete's sake. I might as well have gone to school with a bunch of John Smiths.
*I'm just looking for agreement here. If you were planning on commenting on how you a) never allow your children to eat in the car, b) always have a garbage bag/tasteful garbage container with matching wipes in your car, or c) have perfect, mess-free children, don't. Just don't. I'm looking to preach to the choir with this post.