I think that 90% of my day is looking for shit.
Not poop shit.
Shit like stuffed animals.
Shit like the YELLOW Lego not the red one
Shit like soo soo’s (yes Chunky still uses a soother)
Shit like his blankie.
Shit like dinkie cars.
Shit like sippy cups.
Shit like the ORANGE spoon and not the green one.
Shit like finding that one red piece that makes the dinkie car race track complete.
Shit like finding a station that plays Yo Gabba Gabba right at this exact moment.
Shit like finding the nearest liquor store.
And if any of that shit isn’t found in a timely manner, my toddler loses his shit.
And I lose my shit.
Oh I hate looking for shit.
Shit taunts me.
And as a warning: The next person to purchase a stuffed animal for his birthday will get stabbed….
By my mean side evil eye…
And it will pierce their soul in a very awkward manner.
And the thing is, I’m pretty damn good at seeking and hunting down things.
Kind of makes me wonder if the US of A should have hired me to find Bin Laden?
I would have done it for a bazillion dollars.
And a lifetime supply of Lucky Charms.