So I mentioned one unreasonable fear. Today I found another.

Food disposal, sink disposal, waste disposal?  What do we call it?  What's the right word?  Well, I have yet another irrational fear.  Luckily my food disposal doesn't require that I fill that bad boy up with petroleum and cause a static fire.  I fear putting my hand in the disposal.  This morning the disposal was making a weird, grinding noise.  I hated the thought of sticking my fist in that hole.  (That sentence belongs on an entirely different blog, wow.)  But clearly something was wrong.

Why do I question reaching in?  It's not like my other hand is going to reach over and flip the switch.  It's not like some freak electrical malfunction is going to throw the switch and rip my hand to shreds.  It's my mom's fault.  She warned me. OVER and OVER.  Be careful. you'll lose your fingers. Maybe your whole hand.  GROSS!

Today, while reaching in and saying a little prayer I found limes from last night's cocktails.  Those should be in the composter you loser!  ooops.  forgot.  But I also found a torn up piece of "plastic who knows what" that totally doesn't belong in the composter.   Risked my life for that crazy piece of plastic.

Glad to be alive.  Still afraid of the disposal.  Be careful out there, especially in the kitchen.

So Littlest Pet Shop has taken over my home. And I'm friggin' pissed.

I can't take it anymore.  The little toys.  The Littlest Pet Shop, The Polly Pockets, The Legos, The Knex.  You name it, they are taking over my home.  I tried to pee in the eldest child's bathroom and had to remove a whole Littlest Pet Shop habitat before I could even lift the lid of the chamber pot which is a commode which is a TOILET!  I stepped on a chameleon and a lion or a puppy or a kitten not sure which...anyhoo.

I am sick of the little toys and this is coming from a woman who played with Smurfs.  You know the Smurfs.  LOVED THEM!  My mom still has my Smurfs.  Papa Smurf, Smurfette.  She's got 'em.

Now if I threw them all over the Master Bedroom floor and tried to navigate over them during my 4:00 a.m. pee (face it we all do it) I would be PISSED. Clearly there is some connection between my urinary habits and little toys and if anyone out there is studying something like this, I could be available for some sort of paid study group.

In the meantime, the little toys are taking over.  There is no rule, no organization, no hope.

Smurfette, help me now.

Do you think these questions might show up on the Census?

Did you know that because I live in the West, I am more likely to have breast implants?   If I lived in the Southeast I'd be rockin' some serious derriere implants.  

Now, I do not have breast implants and have mentioned in a past post I quite like what The Good Lord (or G*D, that's a shout out to my friend over at wifemotherexpletive.blogspot.com , she'll get it)  gave me.  Derriere implants, are you serious?  Buying jeans is tough enough, petite in length, but not "Mom jeans"  but not so low that I risk showing off the fact that I have birthed 3 large children.  I mean really, we need to add extra room for my derriere implants so that making buying said jeans puts me directly into the funny farm?!  Luckily, I don't live in Florida, this will not be a problem.

I am at risk for being tempted by other invasive procedures such as Liposuction and an Eyelid Lift, you know because I live in the West.  Tummy tuck, no. The folks in Alabama, Louisiana and Mississippi want that more than me.  They live in the Southeast.  It's what they do.

Now on the minimally invasive front, Botox, soft-tissue fillers and a random chemical peel might get me through my 40's.  That's how we Westerners roll.  What about Botoxing my ass, Chemical peeling my boobs and then just adding some soft-tissue filler to my tummy.....that way I am just accentuating what I already have going.    Why stop this train from wrecking, I'm well on my way!

So, is the Census 2010 compiling this information?  I mean this is important shit.  We need to know.  When the Census Man/Woman comes knocking on my door, I'm speaking the truth.  Leave my body alone.  It rocks!

Because if I didn't you would have been disappointed.