Viktoria Krum and the uber famous plastic pool

Today has been a good day.

I can say that now that it’s almost over, but when I woke up this morning still a little bleary from my date with Comrade Smirnoff the night before, I definitely wanted to fast forward through it all. You know, to avoid the puking and chalky handfuls of Tums and a headache exacerbated by a screaming baby and what have you.

In between dashing back and forth to the bathroom, (OUTTA MY WAY! I’m gonna vo–wait. Nope. False alarm. Carry on, people) there was a knock at the door. I was unshowered, still wearing my pajamas and no bra, and probably smelled like a distillery, but I answered any way.

I hoped it was another stray Jehovah’s Witness come to save my poor, heathen soul. It’s kind of a sport in my family to try to chase them away as fast as possible, and I’ve got a long list of things I like to tell them once they start handing me pamphlets from the Watchtower Society.

Things I’ve already used:

  1. We’re Catholic. Would you care for a glass of holy water?
  2. (after shaking hands) I can’t really talk right now. I’m up to my elbows in poop.
  3. I voted for Obama.

Things I desperately want to say:

  1. Jesus-Schmesus. We worship the underground lizard people. Their King is Dick Cheney.
  2. Would you like to join us later tonight while we ritually slaughter a goat around a bonfire in the backyard?
  3. No time to talk. I’m planning an EPIC  birthday party.
  4. No time to talk. I’m late for my blood transfusion.
  5. We’ve been disfellowshipped, suckas!

But no such luck. It was a Bulgarian exchange student trying to sell me something. Honestly, I couldn’t understand half of what she said, but I felt sorry for her. It was only ten in the morning and already 90-something degrees so I invited her in for a glass of water. She drank it quickly and left to go bother the neighbors. And I went back to Boo’s bedroom to tell him Mommy had just met someone from the same country as international Quidditch sensation Viktor Krum. He just looked up at me like I had something green and slimy hanging out of my nose and then went to stand by the window and pine for his swimming pool.

Just five minutes in mah poo, pleeeeeeeez?

And lo, internet, it is that pool that made my preshus snowflake famous. Again. This was sitting in my inbox tonight at 6:00:

To: Chelsie <address redacted>
From: Burgoyne, Drew P <>
Subject: Drew’s digital snapshots
Congrats you are the winner of today’s Drew’s Digital Snapshots. Please return the release form to claim your prize.

That’s right. Boo is local celebrity thanks to 40/29 TV. They’ve shown one other photo of Boo on-air before, but this is proof positive that I’m not just another crazy mom who thinks her kid is the next Elvis. He really is adorable, and it has been independently verified by an outside, unbiased source. Twice.

Promotional swag for mommy, thanks to her really, really ridiculously good looking toddler.

You can follow this link to view the winner’s gallery and see how much cuter Boo is than all the other kids. Heh.

Mommy's little money maker

And anyone who tells me he’s not the cutest kid in the alive will get punched in the fucking mouth.


About Chelsie

Mommy. Beauty product whore. Plastic lawn flamingo enthusiast. Nosy neighbor. One day novelist.
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