Awhile back I found this fabulous blog post idea… Not Me! Monday… on MckMama’s blog. (those of you who don’t know her already… you’d better check out her blog! ) Seemed like a great spin off from my Thought For Thursday posts which spread like wildfire but as of late I’ve noticed have dwindled significantly in the blog world.
I did not secretly smirk when I heard the dog ate your buffalo wings, honey. Nope. Not me. Not after you conveniently swung by BWW after class while I was home with two cranky children. No, I wouldn’t smugly smirk at the thought of the dog enjoying your dinner.
I did not forget to mail my dad’s birthday card. I am always on top of those things! No. Not me!
I did not notice an ant crawling across the floor next to Hudson and turn a blind eye to it. No, that would be disgusting! Not me!
- I am definitely not still tossing a bottle to Hudson on the random nights he wakes up fussing and won’t go back to sleep. If plugging in the sucky doesn’t work, I am definitely not giving into him. Not me!
- This past weekend I promise you did not hear me confess to my husband that I was actually starting to like my van. No, that was not me. And it surely wasn’t me who suggested we should have a total of 4 kids, you know, to fill up our van. No… not me. Never!
- In our yard, you will not see a certain 3 year old boy drop his pants and pee in the yard. And if you did, it was defintely not me who encouraged it.
- And this weekend I did not turn a blind eye to that same 3 year old boy who got his clothes wet while washing his quad and decidedly stripped to his birthday suit and continued to wash his quad. No. Not me.
- I did not finally empty our sink full of dishes, counter crusted with food and juice and crumbs only for the exterminator. No. Not me. I defintely would not want him to get the idea that the food and juice and crumbs might have something to do with the ants? Because, honestly, our house is never dirty. Ever.
- I did not laugh when my Ryan told Porter to eat his eggs off the floor, like a dog. Because he purposely threw them on the floor, not wanting to eat them. No, I would not support that type of parenting. I did not point out to the whining three year old that he was not being treated like a dog… dogs don’t get forks. No… not me.
Come on, join in! But remember, it was not me who got you addicted. 😉