Concentrate (concentrate... concentrate... concentrate...)
10 am. Mixing formula:
Hmmm....eight scoops. Ok.
One. ooo, look how level that scoop is!
Two. ewww, my foot is stuck to the floor.
Three. did I push the on button for the dryer?
Four. what is that asshole doing across the street?
Four, no, Five. "LEARN TO SHARE, DAMNIT."
Six. don't you ring my doorbell, asshole.
Eight. ack, my nose is running. (sniff) All done! Now I'll make the beds.
Hmmm....eight scoops. Ok.
One. ooo, look how level that scoop is!
Two. ewww, my foot is stuck to the floor.
Three. did I push the on button for the dryer?
Four. what is that asshole doing across the street?
Four, no, Five. "LEARN TO SHARE, DAMNIT."
Six. don't you ring my doorbell, asshole.
Eight. ack, my nose is running. (sniff) All done! Now I'll make the beds.
posted by cakeboom at
12:40 PM
3 Comments:
Formula. Baby. I have got to get knocked up soon.
Oh God, I remember the days!
Okay how about this...I use to seriously get freaked out by the squeaky sound the scoop made when it dug into the formula.
It was like nails on a chalk board!
The 10 am feeding wasn't that bad for me, it was the 3am one that I couldn't manage. One, two, three, zzzzz. Five?
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