Do as I boss

Remember how I said don’t be bossy? I mean it. Don’t.

I will be handling all of the bossiness around here. So that you don’t have to. Because, really, aren’t you glad to have me around to shoulder that burden? Do YOU want to be the one declaring, “YOUNG MAN, we do not chat on the phone WITH A NAKED BOTTOM. Please put something on before you get on the phone with Daddy!?” I didn’t think so.

So, in the spirit of carrying out my bossy duties and completely unrelated to just not having very much at all to cover today, I present the following list of things you need to do.

You need to go to Trader Joe’s and pick up some E = Guaca Salsa2 because it’s really good. You know me and my avocado fetish; I meant to buy the Avocado’s Number guacamole (which comes in a very similar container), but they were out. Bastards. Except not, because I bought this instead and it’s even better, and I will tell you why. Although pure guacamole tastes better (but only if you like avocado), this combo of avocado and salsa is ALMOST as good, but MUCH lower in calories, on account of avocados being something like 500 calories per teaspoon. But this, this is guacamole plus tomatillo salsa. So! Still green! Still yummy! Lower in calories! Plus, the word tomatillo is fun!

You need to fess up when you eat the kids’ Easter candy and they catch you with a wrapper on your desk. Don’t want to confess? Don’t leave evidence. It’s okay, if caught, to insist that they didn’t like that kind, anyway.

You need to check out these charity auctions on eBay, both because they’re for a good cause and because there are some cool things available. Signed books! A critique! A hat made by author Jennifer Crusie her own damn self! All proceeds go to The Michele Fund. The lovely and talented Holly From Vermont (she who helped design my own fundraising shirts) brought all of this to my attention, because she knows that I am All About The Boobs and would fully endorse these auctions. I am and I do. Go forth and bid.

You need to read my latest post over at BlogHer because some things need to be seen to be believed, and I like it when people join me in my righteous indignation.

You need to remember that if you have a high-needs child, chances are excellent that the day when her behavior is at the pinnacle of obnoxiousness and you want nothing more than to put YOURSELF in a time-out so that you don’t have to be a grown-up and continue dealing with She Who Will Not Be Reasonable is the very day when she most needs you to be calm, and loving, and give her more than you feel like giving right at that moment. I, myself, do not remember this often enough. I do, however, remember it just often enough to feel like a complete asshat when I’ve done it right and things get SO MUCH BETTER, because then I realize that if only I’d figured it out sooner, we could’ve cut the craziness short.

You need to get some of these moisturizing booties I mentioned, but only if you’ve got a strong stomach. This morning, I removed the booties expecting to find beautifully smooth and supple feet. In reality, I removed the booties and found feet almost wholly unchanged, save for a gigantic crack along the callouses on the underside of each big toe. While I investigated these new fissures, gooey creatures with multiple appendages and lots of teeth exploded from the openings and ate everyone on my spacecraft. Not really. But it was still gross.

9 Responses to “Do as I boss”

  1. 1
    Susan May 3, 2006 at 11:46 pm #

    I shared an office in grad school with Jennifer Crusie. Yes, really! And I adore her. She had the desk next to me, and any time we were in the office together she would make me laugh so hard that I would have to tell students to come back later to talk about their work. Because my students were NOT funny, but Jenny truly was. And still is!

  2. 2
    ozma May 3, 2006 at 11:58 pm #

    That Colbert report thing was a bit jaw dropping. People get famous for the most bizarre things these days.

  3. 3
    elswhere May 4, 2006 at 1:10 am #

    Oh, Mir. Eeeeeew. About the Caitlin Flanagan thing. (I tried to comment on the BlogHer site but couldn’t figure out how.)

    I had this flash of wishing that she and Linda Whatsername (you know, the one who said that women who drop out of the high-earning ratrace are traitors to feminism) would be locked in a room to fight until they ate each other up, like the Calico Cat and the Gingham Dog.

  4. 4
    Cele May 4, 2006 at 2:21 am #

    just think of how beautimous your feet will look after three nights of bootie. I mean three nights of moisturizing booties. But I bet you’d like three nights of male bootie better. Sorry. hmmm looking for male order men.

  5. 5
    amy May 4, 2006 at 9:28 am #

    WOW. I am a SAHM right now to a toddler under 2, and it is HARD. I am a feminist. I do this because it is best for my kid right now, and we can BARELY afford it. We won’t be able to do it much longer, which is ok, because right now it is really the 1950’s in my apartment, and that has its considerable drawbacks! I miss working, and having money. These kind of anti-women books written by women make me SO MAD! It seems to devalue the choices my husband and I have made. I love your blog. It is the first thing I read every morning. Thanks!

  6. 6
    shannon May 4, 2006 at 10:54 am #

    You mean it’s not okay to talk on the phone without pants on? Yeah, I don’t buy that! They can’t see that you have no pants on.

    So I say to everyone…TALK ON THE PHONE WHEN NOT WEARING PANTS! it’s quite liberating.

  7. 7
    Vaguely Urban May 4, 2006 at 12:42 pm #

    Prediction: The booties will now exploit the chink in the calluses’ armor, ultimately leaving your feet like the much-vaunted baby’s bottom.

  8. 8
    Karen May 4, 2006 at 1:49 pm #

    Buy Burt’s Bees Coconut Foot Creme. Slather on feet. Put on socks. Go about business. Remove socks. Gasp at luscious feet!

  9. 9
    Contrary May 4, 2006 at 11:00 pm #

    Ms. Flanagan is a hypocrite, plain and simple.

    Now, you’ll excuse me while I run to purchase some Coconut Foot Creme and booties.

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