Tuesday, March 21, 2006

I See You

Don't get all paranoid. No need to get your panties in a wad, your
knickers in a twist, a bug up you butt, sand in your craw, your nose
out of joint, or bent out of shape. I can't really see YOU.

This week I saw people doing things they probably didn't WANT
me to see.

A girl peeking at the answers in the back of her textbook.
C'mon, girlie. Do you think the teacher won't notice that you get
all the odd problems right and all the even problems wrong?

A girl looking guilty when I shouted, "Hey! Has anyone seen my
green calculator?"
The eyes have it. The eyes are the window to the calculator
thief's admission of guilt. A raised eyebrow, and she spilled her
guts. "It's at home. I was meaning to bring it back, but then we
had that backwards day, and then I forgot, and then I laid it out,
but our power was off last night and I didn't think of it this morning."
A simple 'I'll bring it back tomorrow' would have been sufficient.

About 20 boys adjusting their private parts while walking down
the hall, sitting in my class, eating lunch, etc.
Oh. They don't care at all who sees. That's why they do it every
freakin' day!

A boy typing 'fag' into the answer for a Jeopardy computer game
question that he did not know.
Methinks that if you are so obsessed, you might be one. Not that
there's anything wrong with that...

A woman abandoning her shopping cart on the Wal*Mart parking
lot, and speeding off while it rolled into the path of a car searching
for a space.
Karma, babe. I'd watch where you park that large SUV of yours
next time. Better make it at the top of a hill.

A toddler squeezing the h*ll out of a loaf of bread, hugging it like a
long-lost teddy bear, while his momma put her cartload of groceries
on the black rubber magic carpet at the Wal*Mart checkout.
How sweet! But momma ain't happy.

My #1 son picking a scab off his arm.
A scab formed after he picked off the scab yesterday from the one
formed the day before yesterday from the one...you get the drift.
What are you, kid, a chicken pecking yourself to death? Get over
the nervous habit already!

Hmm...what if I really DID see you? Did you do anything naughty?
(That can be discussed here?)

9 Comments:

Blogger MrsCoach2U said...

Oh Crap! I was hoping nobody saw me.....................

8:13 AM  
Blogger Redneck Diva said...

I always do naughty stuff - how do you think I can keep myself at a whopping 44% pure?

If you had seen me yesterday you'd have seen me curled up in Mr. Diva's recliner with his camouflage blanket while the kids took a nap and my house didn't get any cleaner. It's at that point where I'm so overwhelmed I don't know where to start, so I didn't. I watched a movie. How naughty of me.

10:23 AM  
Blogger MamaKBear said...

LMAO at the little boy and the bread...the last time we went grocery shopping, Destiny destroyed a loaf of bread because she kept patting it to death!

And no, Mama wasn't happy!

1:44 PM  
Blogger Mr Bates said...

When I get home from work, I like to change into something comfortable and then eat a salad with a dinner fork instead of a salad fork. But of course I only have salad when I'm not eating mutton!

2:19 PM  
Blogger Hillbilly Mom said...

Mrs.,
Shame, shame. Everybody sees your schoolbus.

Diva,
Camouflage blanket. That's all I can picture. Red. Neck. Nap.

MamaKB,
We should market bread as the next new toy. Little clothes to put on it, carts to push it in...It'll be the greatest thing since sliced bread. Oh. It IS sliced bread. Who knew? A new way to market an old product. And it's consumable, so the parents will have to keep buying more as it is crushed to croutons. We'll be RICH, I tell you!

Mr.,
Would you drape yourself in velvet if you could? Is it a BIG salad? Did you take Gramma Memma's napkins?

8:27 PM  
Blogger Mr Bates said...

No, yes and no! You win!!!!!!

11:44 AM  
Blogger Hillbilly Mom said...

Mr.,
That's OK. This was not a 'contest'.

5:24 PM  
Blogger ill man said...

I am a world champion scab picker. Can't leave them alone.

The one about the trolley made me laugh out loud. I can just picture it.

3:29 PM  
Blogger Hillbilly Mom said...

Ill Man,
My son could give you some good competition for that 'picker' crown. He won't even admit that he does it, even when I catch him in the act.

6:07 PM  

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