Don’t Panic

 

Sending Offspring off forever + avoiding family drama = very little time for my life’s true purpose—baring it all for you and the rest of the internet. 

 

red "censored" stamp

 

So apologies, but you’re gonna get some quickies for a while.  Hey, if Husband can live with it, so can you!

 

 

Today’s little slice finds us in our natural habitat: bickering our way through a store.  (In this case, Target)

 

stemless wine glass reads: I like long romantic walks down every aisle at Target.

 

We are in receipt of an Official Army List of shit recruits are allowed to bring with them to basic training, and items which are prohibited.  This list, it will not surprise you, is hilarious.

 

Actually, let me back up and give you just one quick example:

 

ME:  (reading list)  Huh.
HIM:  What?
ME:  HOLY SHIT!  OFFSPRING!
OFFSPRING:  (from bedroom, where he is “packing”)  What?
ME:  You’re not allowed to wear a thong when you go!
OFFSPRING:  I know!  I’m bummed, but I’ll deal.
ME:  (to Husband)  I mean, what business is it of the Army’s?
HIM:  I’m sure—
ME:  What interest do they have in how much fabric is stuffed up a recruit’s butt crack?  Is there a required minimum?  “I’m sorry, you can’t join the Army now, you’ve only got this little bit of underwear up your ass and we require that it be several inches of really uncomfortable cotton bunched up there at all times.”
HIM:  Probably.  Yes, that’s it exactly.

 

 

Which is not why we were in Target, of course; we needed more containers for storing Offspring’s belongings until the Army movers come for it—no, I’m not keeping his room as a shrine to him, I’ve got plans for that room—and a few other things off the list.

 

 

ME:  (reading checklist)  They want him to bring a towel and a washcloth.
HIM:  Yep.
ME:  Can’t he just steal those from the hotel?
HIM:  … He really shouldn’t.
ME:  Hmph.  Fine.  (browses towels)  Wait—doesn’t the Army issue towels?
HIM:  They used to.
ME:  (midway up Mt. Thoroughly Worked Up) Then why
HIM:  They used to give you three green towels, this big (gestures)
ME:  … That’s a hand towel.
HIM:  Yep.  But you’d get three of ‘em.
ME:  Did they also send you to a home ec class, so you could learn to sew them together to form one decent towel?
HIM:  No, they did not.
ME:  (grabs towel and washcloth)  Ridiculous.

 

 

(from Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy) "If you want to survive out here you gotta know where your towel is"

 

 

 

 

 

 

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