I've been cleaing house all day because Mom has a friend in town from England (Yes the Mary Poppins/Tally ho, good chap!/Care for a spot of tea, gov'nuh? England) and there have been rumors of using my house for a picnic since Tater is in between houses and Mom is housing some of Tater's stuff because we're working on Tater's new house which is actually my rental house and I am now known as the family slum lord. (Whew, long sentence)
Anyway, I sat down on the couch with laptop on my lap to rest my weary legs and take a little break. It had been a few days since I'd fired up the laptop, so it was doing some updating and such.
I woke up 15 minutes later to an updated computer but am now sporting what I fear to be permanent burns on my thighs from the scorching hotness of the laptop from Hades sitting on my short-clad lap. Obviously, laptops are not meant to sit on bare laps. I knew this, but I freakin' fell asleep.
In a round about way, the injuries are all because I cleaned house. House cleaning is dangerous, folks. Avoid it at all costs.
I was born a semi-diva. I married a redneck. Through the magic of osmosis or just because of a serious lack of sophistication over the years I have found a balance of the two that make me who I am today. And then I write about it all, much to the chagrin of my mother.
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5 comments:
You've got me convinced. From now on, no more housework here!
Shame, shame...everybody hates Lorraine!
My boy thinks I am crazy because I won't let him leave Lappy on all night, sitting on the carpet. He declares, "MOM, he has a fan that keeps him cool." I'm not buyin' it.
Well. I guess you're gonna just have to send that laptop down here to Texas, where it will never see bare thighs. I promise. :)
Thanks, I was just about to get up and do the mopping of the wet areas, now I won't, LOL.
I guess you didn't read this.
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