Sunday, March 05, 2006

Teenagers, headaches, fender benders and trips to the emergency room

What a fucking weekend. I'd call a muligan but I would be afraid of repeating it. Saturday I had a killer headache and was in the middle of trying to detox from a ton of over the counter meds. So in that respect I was living with the pain. Finally Saturday evening I feel some relief, I can think clearly and my head is down to a dull roar. I decide to polish my nails.

Now my nails are a huge deal for me. I am very particular about them, I can't stand chipped or messed up polish in any way shape or form. In saying that you need to realize this means my polish is changed on a weekly basis or sooner if I have a chip or nick. Saturday they were unpolished *gasp*.

I grab my favorite bottle of OPI from my basket and sit on the floor by the side table. I have a coke and Legally Blonde in the DVD player, good time ready to be had by all. The nail polish top is stuck. This thing will not move. So I grasp the bottle tighter to get a better grip and twist. All of a sudden there is a searing pain in my hand and polish everywhere. The bottle had shattered embedding glass in my hand, in the space between my thumb and first finger. There is a huge peice of glass just hanging there out of my hand.

Banker Boy responds by getting me into the bathroom, hand over sink and pulling the glass out. Oh damn I thought I was going to be sick, we then assess that this deems a trip to the emergency room and a $75 dollar co-pay. Toss a towel over bleeding hand and inform sully teenager to get dressed we got to go. Hell you would have thought we would have asked that child to rewrite the magna carta in fucking calligraphy.

2 stiches later and a debate on how I am so not having a tetnus shot, later we head home. I ask for a detour to the gas station for a new coke and a pack of cigarettes. While inside the gas station, some jackass hits my parked car. WTF then he gives attitude because Banker Boy wants a police report.

Fast forward to Sunday. Snotty teenager is STILL trying to take snotty to a whole new level. I am off housework for a week doctor's orders. Banker Boy is out changing the brakes on his truck and transporting his sisters furniture to her new apartment. I kindly request that said teen help me with cleaning up. It would have been easier to ask her to teach the world to sing. At some point in the afternoon she even started arguing with me about arguing with me.

Aparently there is a new language in the world of teens. Clean your room translates to take a 45 minute shower. Your grounded translates to aruging with mom that this does not include going to someones house or having them come here under the guise of homework. Watch your mouth means see how long it takes to make your mothers head explode..

Is it Monday YET????????????

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