Sassy Mama: It's Supposed to Be Sunday!

Which means I refrain from cooking, cleaning and basically doing anything that requires me to move my ass. But Ornery Tiger Cub made such a mess in the living room that just walking through it required more energy than it would to clean it. And Hubby decided to have his old rims put on my minivan so I don't "click-click-click" around town. So that required me to clean (long story but he needs a ride which means we could very well have someone over here to watch the kids since we don't all fit in the Jeep). Personally I like the "click-click-click" of my car...reminds me of the old school days of putting stuff (like playing cards or whatever) in your bicycle spokes specifically so you could make that clicking sound while you rolled in your 'hood.

I was flipping through the Sunday paper today and in Parade they had an ad for this: http://ashtondrake.collectiblestoday.com/ct/product/prdid-327665001.jsp
Now, even if I wasn't Catholic, this would highly disturb me. How weird do you gotta be to buy this? Pictures-OK, Little Statues-OK, Pins or Fliers-Also OK.....Doll-A little weird.....
Watch Mom-ma is going to get pissed at me because she was actually contemplating buying it.

Stupid Ass Downstairs Neighbor voiced his complaint again today, via pounding on the ceiling/floor. I'm sooo ready to go Crazy White Girl on him. I am. Just walk up the stairs motha-fucker and I'm going to be all over your shit like white on rice. I mean, get the fuck over yourself.....my three-year-old doesn't stop running for his dear sweet mama, no way in hell is he going to do it for a Stupid Ass Downstairs Neighbor. And so I tell Hubby, get down there and tell him off. Tell him we have four kids and that we are doing our best to not have them be loud but noise happens. Tell him!!!! And Hubby doesn't. I say, "You want me to go down there? 'Cause I'll go down there. I'm super pissed...you know what will happen right?" He does.

We have a history of him not saying what needs to be said and instead I say it and the receiver of such a talking-to gets all up and pissed because they don't like a little white woman telling them how it is and they talk shit back to me and BAM Hubby suddenly steps in and handles it. I'm just trying to expedite the process. Eliminate the middle-woman from the scenario. So damn it Hubby, handle our biz-ness.

Hubby just ain't up to such exertions right now. How do I know this? Because today, right after the neighbor banged on the ceiling/floor, we went out for a smoke and I was egging Hubby on....go handle it. And he says, "Are they even home?" What?! No, Hubby we just angered the spirits that dwell in the downstairs unit. Reminded me of Bill Engvall's skit....Here's Your Sign.