One of my favorite things is hearing someone else's crappy story.
Like when I hear from my seemingly perfect friend that she is stressed about Christmas too. Me, "Holy cow, you are, I thought it was just me who realized how much work it is!"
Me again, "You shove cookies in your mouth too? Yeah for us!"
Or like in October, when Baylie got stitches twice, and I got social services called on me that was a load of fun. I loved hearing anyone who else had social services called on them (innocently of course) so I didn't feel like the crappiest mother on the planet. I never did hear any stories just like mine, except for one that was 20 years old (thanks Kim Pfister!). By the way, no social services ever came, and Baylie is doing well. And I am now more empathic and less judgemental as a result. Why do we have to learn these dang lessons?
So I was delighted to read my sister's entertaining account of her remodeling experiences. Seriously, the girl should sue Ikea....even though we love you cheap Ikea, you have been mean to my sister. But the best part wasn't about her Ikea experience or the fact that last week she drove 2 hours to Tennessee only to have the store closed because of the time difference...no this one was classic. Although I did love the poop smeared everywhere story couple months back when her water was turned off too. Good times.
Just another affirmation of why we are related... Love you Court.
By the way, I like the happy stories too cause we don't want to be whiney complainers now, but sometimes, misery loves company eh? Cause sometimes you just have embrace the chaos and laugh. Or cry. Cry and laugh. Or cry and then laugh in a month...that I can do. Maybe in 2009