As always…gotta share some laughs...

"Why, no…dear innocent little bird…this is not, in fact…" 

Are you ready for this?!?

…"this is NOT a sex change operation. Zane will not be a GIRL after this surgery." But thanks for asking. 

Hea. ven. help. us. 

You just can't make this stuff up. Not possible. 

Seriously?!? What kind of parents does this unnamed female child, who's almost 12, think we are?!? Smoly hokes, Batman. You can imagine where the conversation went from there. Trust me…it's nowhere I wanted to go.

The conversations I've been forced to engage in these past 15.5 years since becoming responsible for other humans is staggering. My go-to response ("I'm not prepared to discuss that with you at this time.") has ceased to sufficiently shut them up. What's a girl with significant word/topic issues to do?!? Now you know why I avoid bodily functions/conversations at all cost…to avoid moments like this. Yea. 

At the very least, I get rights to all comedic moments that have been spawned from these horror stories. Because, c'mon…what else do I have?!? 

One of the funniest moments of Zane's surgery was after they gave him the happy juice. Of course, it's supposed to make him calm and sleepy. I told them they'd need to give him a gallon of it, if they were hoping for that result. We saw no slowing down whatsoever as he proceeded to climb onto Chris' head…his head, I tell ya…it's kind of his thing. The shocked doc just stared and said, "Sometimes it has the opposite effect on certain kids." Ya think?!? In prompt order, little man got completely slaphappy and was cackling. He couldn't even hold himself upright and became the youngest drunk the OR has ever seen…well, let's hope, anyway. Regardless, we were all DYING! It was an incredible moment. No joke. We needed that.


Another funny moment…in hindsight only…happened a couple days after the surgery. I was pushing big Z through walmart to grab a couple things when he loudly started complaining, "My PP is KILLING me!" (over and over…oh, and over.) I avoided all eye contact with other customers while pleading with little man to stop saying that. Pleading, I tell ya. This stuff only happens to the girl who calls every body part a "thingy." For reals.

I try to keep a straight face…I try to play it off like none of this stuff bothers me...(I could get an Oscar for some of those times when I engage in a perfectly disgusting and private conversation like I was eating a slice of pizza…no. big. deal…even while I was throwing up in my mouth.) But it doesn't help with the king of Carr Castle is the biggest culprit of putting the queen on the hot seat, if ya catch my drift.

I should take my own advice about not letting the bullies know they get to you!!! Sheesh. 
Sometimes the shock just is too much for me to hide. Good for them…bad for me. :) Things like this happen to me constantly…

"Don't get testy."

"I hate that word…do you have to say that word?"

"Oh...just get ovary it."

Somebody save me.