Never Ask "Lemme Smell Your Hands"

I am PMSing.

Yes-hold on to your hats six-packers... I may need you to bail me out of jail by the time this one is over.

Ugh.

Yesterday I had an overwhelming urge to just cry. I was driving in my minivan with my two youngest in their carseats and I just wanted to cry. I don't know why-I knew it would not solve the world problems or cure cancer... but the need was overwhelming.

I didn't cry.

I honked at the car in front of me and then flipped off the billboard for breast enlargements.

I felt better-but not fully.

So I texted Cousin Steve (oh-in case you did not know, I am a texting pro now. I text all day every day. I text my children, my friends, my family... I would even text you if you sent me your number-maybe.) This was our textersation:

Me: "Uh-oh, I feel PMS coming on. xcuz me while I burst into tears for no apparent reason."

CS: "I started yesterday."

Me: "So you felt this way too?"

CS: "Every other day. Except if it falls on an odd dated Tuesday. Im ok on those."

Me: "Do men ever feel like they just need a good cry and rant?"

CS: "I am crying now."

Me: "Oh U men HAVE no (curse word) IDEA!!!!!"

And then the rest of the day I just sent him random curse words to which he responded with Irish Blessings. He is so "holier than thou" the drunk bastard.

Later on in the afternoon my baby Mary came up to me whimpering and pushed her hand in my face. I assumed that she hurt her little fingers so I kissed them. She then held her little hands up to me so that I would hold her. I pulled her into my lap and instantly smelled a load in her diaper (yes, I am aware that she turned two at the beginning of May and I have yet to start potty training her-I have decided that this kid can potty train herself, I mean really... do I think she is going to go off to college wearing diapers? No-she'll figure it out.) So I shuffle her into her room to change the foul smelling pile. As I lay her down I realize that her diaper is all askew and she has poo smeared down her leg. She once again holds up her hand to me and says:

"EWWWWWWWWW!"

I suddenly realize that she did not hurt her hand and need me to kiss her boo boo all better... she was telling me that she stuck her precious little pudgy fingers into her dead carcass smelling diaper and she had feces all over herself.

And I kissed it.

Seriously folks. Can I please call bullshit on this day? Please?