Sick and Wrong.

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I'm all for finding the silver lining in disappointing situations, but sometimes the lining is rich in irony and perversely funny--kind of like the black paint smiley face my punks left me one day.

For weeks--no months--I've been wanting a wreath for the upstairs closet door.  It's a spot of almost zero strategic decorating importance, yet it annoys the crap out of me every time I walk by it.  Maybe it's the fact that I've had to "spot" paint it with Kilz to cover kid schmear so many times that it's now a  blotchy mess of mismatched white.  Or maybe it just bugs me that it's one of those old, completely falling apart doors that should have been replaced by the previous owners before I hit junior high.  Don't know.  But for some reason I'd decided that a 12" circle of crafty-flower-ribbon-crap could make all 1300 sq. inches of it look less yuck spectacular.

So I made a plan.  I picked the day—the day—that I would finally get this project crossed off my To Do List once and for all.  And then … life happened.  The day didn’t start well.  And kids were sick.   I even managed to burn dinner, too.  See?

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But sometimes when it’s very late at night and you’re running on very little sleep, bad and frustrating and lame … become funny as hell.  And so at 12:24 in the morning, I started laughing … hysterically … at the thought of a truly bizarre and fairly ridiculous solution to my closet door issue.

Ta da.

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Sick and wrong?  Yup.  A little disturbing?  Probably. 

But I’ve had this disaster duct taped to my closet door all classy-like for a couple weeks and just can’t seem to take it down.  I laugh every.single.time I see it.  I’m half tempted to leave it up for a year and decorate it for holidays and birthdays … to feature it more prominently in my house … to post a From Burned Biscuit to Bravo!  tutorial on YouTube … just to keep me humble.  It reminds me that no matter how “together” I’m feeling that day, I’m only an over-cooked Pillsbury dough boy away from domestic shame.

And that’s probably a good thing.

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13 comments:

  1. Brilliant! Waiting for Memorial Day rendition.

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  2. this is sooooo funny. i love the way you turned around a crazy day. what happened to "the dirty half dozen"? i get such a laugh reading your posts?

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  3. Dee,

    The Dirty Half Dozen blog is still alive and well (thedirtyhalfdozen.blogspot.com). I've just been a slacker at writing. But ... the kids keep doing what they do best so I've got several posts in the works that will be much, more regular. :)

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  4. This made me laugh out loud!! Good for you and your sick and twisted craftiness! I LOVE it!!

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  5. I say, break out the shellac and make that puppy a permanent part of your household, especially if it makes you laugh each time you see it.

    It made me laugh, too!

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  6. Girl, this post made me laugh so hard I almost peed. (Which, being in the third trimester, is not that hard to do...) But seriously, awesome. You are AWESOME.

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  7. I am with Lady Thought on this one- Having children has made my bladder weak- and gut busting laughs don't help!

    I have been there! I think you are so FUNNY!

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  8. Ok, I'm only just starting tri 2 and I'm already there with lady Thought and kelly Moore! I have had way too many mis-haps like your biscuits. Ours always go to the animals ( the farm ones- not the kid ones!) Now I will NEVER look at burned biscuits the same way! It reminds me of those shellaced bread dough baskets our moms made in Relief Society, and those salt dough jars we made as kids...he he! I think I just gave my age away... ;)

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  9. I stumbled across your blog and this post and I just laughed and laughed! I LOVE your wreath... The ridiculousness of it, the meaning behind it and also the fact that I myself have burned a pan or two of those biscuits! I'm now a fan!

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  10. HA HA HA! This is the stuff legends are made of :) For some reason this reminds me of Rowdy, the stuffed dog they have on Scrubs. It's just eccentric, disturbing and hilarious all rolled together in a tight burrito of awesomeness.

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Thanks so much for the comment love! I do cartwheels when I read each one. Well, I imagine my pre-pregnancy self doing cartwheels, but you get the idea ...

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