August 13, 2009

You think just because I’m out and about, shopping for the brood that I call my family, that I can’t be the best possible parent I can be?  Oh, no, no, no.  I am able to multi-fucking-task with the best of them, and that includes pushing a shopping cart, filling it up with toothpaste (we like fresh breath and white teeth.  That’s the way we roll) and answering a text message.

My son Matt loves IM’ing and texting me just for the hell of it.  Why?  Because he’s clearly bored out of his freaking tree I rock.  Duh.  Can’t believe you had to even ask.  Anyway, so, I get this text message:

Aw, he’s wanting to know what he should do about his “situation,” and still, at 21-years-of-age, needs some motherly advice.  I’m more than willing to give it:

I offered three choices, which clearly, were quite brilliant as I pushed my shopping cart full of toothpaste.  He was so thankful at my suggestions, and he said so:

Hmm.  I was sure there was a big ol’ THANK YOU, YOUR ADVICE ROCKS, LIKE YOU, in that text message but maybe that part got erased when I took the screenshot?  Yeah.  Totally what happened.

Anyway, you’re very welcome Matt, anytime.  Tell all your friends to text me, too, because obviously I give awesome pee advice (but honestly, I am versatile).