|The fact that "a" should be "an" is not|
lost on me. But I liked the message
here, so I went with it. Don't hate.
Lick to seal. Heh. That's what he said!
Anyway... so, I printed out a mailing list and gave a stack of envelopes to the spawn...
Me: Here. You get to have the honor of addressing these envelopes.
Spawn: Addressing? What do you mean?
Me: Uhm. What I mean, is that you need to WRITE ADDRESSES on these mofos so we can put them in the mail.
Spawn: Can't we just print them?
Me: No. I looked up proper graduation announcement etiquette on google... and all those goody-too-shoo beyotches say you have to hand write them. So, get on it. You want gifts? Then you gotta do it right...Because I don't give a shit.
Spawn: Ok. Fine.
* 2 minutes later *
Me: There's no way you're done already.
Spawn: Where does the address go?
Me: You're kidding, right?
Spawn: Uhm. No. It goes right here, right? <pointing to top left corner where the fucking RETURN address goes>
Me: No. That's where YOUR address goes.
Spawn: I have to put MY address on these? I thought I was going by your list??
Me: Am I on candid camera again? <looking around the room very sure that Hubber hid a camera somewhere>
Spawn: Moooom... I'm serious.
Me: WTF do they teach you in school?! How do you have all A's?! You are the epitome of everything that is wrong with our education system!
Spawn: We don't MAIL letters at school, Mom. We E-MAIL. And, text. Duh.
Me: Shoot me, now.
Then, I proceeded to tell her the City, State and zip go on the third line after she ruined the first envelope. AND there's a comma after the CITY! For safe measure, I went ahead and printed return address labels. It was either that or punch Hubber in the throat.
Hubber: Why do you want to punch ME in the throat? I'm not in charge of etiquette up in here. As a matter of fact, I am probably the LEAST qualified etiquette expert in this family.
Me: My point exactly! I can't do everything! Your children should know how to address envelopes! What about all those thank-you cards I've made her write throughout the years?
Hubber: Well, in her defense, YOU always address all the envelopes.
Me: So, it's MY fault your kids are dumb?!
Hubber: Uhm. I'll be right back... gotta pee <he says as he's shutting and LOCKING the bathroom door>
Then, the sounds of machine guns can be heard through the door.
Me: You're not peeing! You're playing games in there!
Anyway... so, if you're one of the lucky people on our mailing list and your address looks all jacked up on the envelope, THIS is why.
And, on a totally related note - feel free to send money for my booze fund. It's dwindling.