Welcome To My Home… I Guess?

Is it cheating if I was a major player in the embarrassing story, but not the embarrassee? Because this hilarious thing happened to me a couple of days ago and I thought it was worth sharing…

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So, let me set the scene for you. It’s a random morning. Toys are littered all across the carpet. Sesame Street is on full blast. Jack is in his high chair eating a waffle and I’m doing the dishes. Pretty standard.

Suddenly, I hear a key unlock the front door. I’m like… Dan has JUST left to work. He must have forgotten something or maybe he has the day off (like in my wildest dreams).

The door wooshes open. Immediately followed by this unsure pause. At this point, I think Dan’s being funny or something. Maybe he’s trying to prank me. I poke my head around the corner to see…

Not Dan. Not anyone I’ve ever met before. There was this total stranger. A girl about my age staring at me in COMPLETE BEWILDERMENT.

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Me: Okay, uh… Hello?

Her: … I think the leasing office gave me the wrong key.

So apparently, she was going to check on a “vacant” apartment to give a tour later that day, but instead checked in on mine. I can only imagine what she must have thought when she opened the door. “SQUATTERS! With Sesame Street … and family pictures hanging on the wall… ummm…”

I’m just glad that I was actually wearing pants that morning.

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Being Too Dumb to Function in Arizona

K I wasn’t going to tell this story, because the wound is still fresh. But, asdlfksldghvlksrjgaslkdfj* FINE! I’ll make a post about this stupid, stupid mistake I made.

*asdlfksldghvlksrjgaslkdfj – (pronounced like slamming keys) exclamation, Keyboard Pound for I did not want to do the thing, but frustratingly so, I will do the thing. Ex. “I wasn’t going to comment on your outlandish political statement on Facebook, but asdlfksldghvlksrjgaslkdfj.”

Well, first off, pregnancy brain is strong with this one, okay. AND I WANT YOU TO KEEP THAT IN MIND… because I have no problem throwing my children under the bus in order to save face. No, listen, that’s not it. But if that’s not it, then it must be something because I feel like what I did could have been the punch line of a dumb-blonde joke.

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Obviously, Arizona is a third degree blister of burning heat. Like really. It reaches temperatures that are actual settings on ovens. So for the sake of our baby boys in the back seat we decided to have our Honda Civic windows tinted so that they, you know, could actually sit there.

It’s always a pain to get your cars worked on because you have to do the awkward second-car-shuffle. So my husband was driving Jack in the Honda and I took the Nissan. Ummmm K. I really hardly ever drive that car. It’s my husband’s commuter car and we always take the Honda for outings because it fits our car seat better. This might just be totally my anxiety but I feel like, driving a car you are not familiar with is trying to navigate a Chinese shuttle to the moon.

Well, whatever. So as I’m driving I immediately notice that something is wrong. The AC  is blowing hot air…

If you haven’t already read about our bad-luck-move-from-hell… this exact thing had happened to our other car on the way down. PLUS all the other mechanical issues we had already been through, not including trying to get tint on the windows.

And we’re driving to the whole other side of town. Well, maybe that SEEMS like not very far, but Mesa might as well be an effing East Coast state it’s so huge. It has 17 freeway exits alone. So here is the worst half an hour of my LIFE, sweat dripping into my eyes, cursing for … just being a human with functioning nerve endings. I’m five months pregnant, it’s over 110 degrees OUTSIDE of the car, okay. I’m rolling down the windows and sticking my head out like a Labrador.

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We get to the place and I immediately tell Dan, “THE AC IN THIS CAR WENT OUT TOO. ARIZONA HATES US.”

He leans in and points out that I had… in fact… never actually turned the air conditioning on.

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Making a Fool of Myself at Barnes and Noble

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Anyone who knows my husband and I, knows that we love to prank each other. One time, Dan put cottage cheese in my deodorant, changed my birthday and Facebook and announced that I was engaged to a mutual friend all on the SAME April Fool’s Day.

So, naturally, I am always trying to get back at him in any little way I can think of.

One time we were hanging out at Barnes and Noble, because if you didn’t know, that’s how non-nerds spend their time. OBVIOUSLY.

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I was browsing around the aisles while Dan trailed behind me. It came to me that this was a perfectly perfect time to be a really annoying wife. I could tell that he was trying to get around me, so I spread my arms out to the side and did a weird zig-zaggy walk. Basically MAXIMIZING every inch of space so that it was impossible to pass by.

I kicked my knees up with each step. Exaggerating every single movement, because I’m a comedic genius honestly. Anyways, basically, I looked like a marionette being controlled by a preschooler.

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That’s when the Barnes and Noble employee was like, “Um… Excuse me…”

Dan had stopped one aisle over. Letting me do this STUPID dancing block-aid. For like honestly a full minute.

Dummy. Even when I try to get him back he finds a way to turn the tables on me.