Confessions of a Housewife

Bless me father, for I have sinned. It has been 24 hours since my last confession.

I bought a rug today. A white rug. I bought a white rug, at an un-IKEA price today, knowing that we are not in any position to own rugs (or buy rugs- especially a white one) at this stage of life, what with our nasty children and leaking-anal-glands dog.

I told my oldest daughter today that no man will ever fall in love with her if she can't implement routine wiping habits.

I bought a digital converter box for our television today, without a government coupon.

I used a total of 2 sticks of butter today in my cooking.

I kicked our dog as I was making dinner tonight. (I swear it wasn't hard though.)

I let Neve wear the same dress she wore yesterday to bed last night, and then let her wear it all day today as well.

I swept up three pennies today.

I rolled my eyes when Terry told me he wasn't feeling very good.

I've fancied the idea of hiring a hit man to knock off Ginger, the chicken. In my defense, father, it's only because I feel guilty that she's alone. And cold. And miserable.

I've fancied the idea of roasting Ginger with sage butter and a side of garlic mashed potatoes.

I told my friend over the phone today that I couldn't wait to see the photos of her surprise Christmas vacation to the Carribbean, while silmultaneously poking her voodoo doll with straight pins.

I finished a storybook three pages sooner than the way the real [awfully unimaginative Disney princess b.s.] story ended, with some imaginative improvisation on my part. If I may say so myself.

I may have thrown clean clothes back into the dirty clothes pile today, as the piles have grown so large that I can't distinguish one pile from another without some nasty pit/crotch sniffing practices.

I think Fiona looks kind of Girl Interrupted crazy with her new haircut, which in turn makes me mad.

I watched Mama's Boy in it's entirety last night.

I told Terry I wanted to learn how to play the guitar, only because he mentioned I looked cute holding one a few weeks ago. Father, he's been teaching me chords after the girls go to bed, and I've been faking my enthusiasm.

I had a beer at 4:30 this afternoon.

I sprayed Febreeze on some dirty jeans that I wore this morning.

Lastly, I confess that I must not deem these as true confessions, as I've posted them on a blog that my mom reads. I confess that even a good uneventful day, however, has it's demons.