Wednesday, December 12, 2012

I Tried. And That Counts For Something.

25 Days of Christmas Blogging
Day 12

There are many reasons I'd make a terrible basketball player: I am short, I can't dribble, I like to throw elbows when people try to take my stuff. I'm playing with this ball now. You can have a turn in a minute. It's called sharing.

If you ask me, the entire sport is sending the wrong message to kids. That guy has what you want? Well, just go take it from him.

On second thought, that sounds exactly like something I'd be in to.

I've digressed.

Last night, while I was waiting for the hot glue gun to heat up (you will recall, we were making our tacky sweaters) I decided to clean up the felt scraps.

Hot glue gun? Felt scraps? You know it's going to be a good sweater.

Typically, when I make a mess I wait three years to clean it up. Since there wasn't enough time to throw a parade together in celebration of my magnanimous deed, I decided I was deserving of three Christmas cookies. After all, I was tidying up when I wasn't even finished with my project. I gathered the scraps and what happened next is Supreme Reason Numero Uno as to why I should never play basketball. Nor clean, apparently.

I left the mess right where it was and ate four cookies for my troubles.

Comment gem!

I really hope it features reindeer and snowmen re-enacting the Nutcracker. With glitter and working light-noses.


  1. Replies
    1. Always. Honestly, what was I thinking trying to do it the other way?

  2. Well....if I'm not mistaken...that waste basket is like woven so I think you DID get the scraps in the basket and they just fell through the sides. Yeah. That's it!

  3. womp womp womp - that reminds me I have cookies, I hope enjoyed yours

  4. I've spent the last several years impressing the shiz outta my kids with sending perfectly waded up pieces of paper "nothing but net" into the trash. Or the washcloth in a glorious non-dripping arc to the sink with such little splash high divers would ask me for tips.

    why the #$%%%% can my kids not hit the side of a barn with a ###$%%% ball the size of Ontario? Why!!
    genetics are cruel and tricky.

  5. I hate cleaning any kind of mess. I love to cook, and dont even mind doing laundry, but I just can't stand cleaning. Hot glue and felt scraps? Can't wait to see that sweater!

  6. I got nothing... Although, I'm curious as to what kind of table that is that stands on end like that?

  7. Ha! That is something I would do! Yes, you deserved your cookies just for THINKING about cleaning up mid-project

  8. I cleaned up my mess the other night after wrapping presents (I still have about 20 to go) and then I was like, "Why the hell did I just do that?" Because I like spending my time doing things that are efforts in futility. That's why.

  9. You know, the fact that the felt scraps didn't stick to your hands as you were throwing them (didn't I read something about a hot glue gun?) is reason enough for cookie number five.

  10. I love my glue gun, even through the pain of hot glue!


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