If you are unaware of what an impatient, irritable freak show I am, well, then…

Get comfy, you're gonna be here a while.

In fact, this is probably the first post you’ve ever read. Hi. I like you. You wanna be my stalker? I enjoy stalkers, especially the far away internet kind of stalkers who read, comment on and share my blog with everyone in their newsfeed including their grandma, even though that is a wildly inappropriate thing to do, no seriously just wait until you read this shit. Actually, I enjoy only those kinds of stalkers. Now get the hell out of my bushes, you weirdo, before I make you babysit my kids.

So this is the third installment of Things That Make Me Want to Cut a Bitch. The excel spreadsheet I have saved on my laptop has about a hundred items on it, but I like to dribble them out in little groups of three, because I care about the longevity of this blog, dammit, and also because someone told me that if you whine too much, people won’t like you, and that is precisely the opposite of what I’m trying to do here.

So here they are, Even More Things That Make Me Want to Cut a Bitch:

1)      Waiting for my kid to hand me something. Dafuq, man? Do you see my open, outstretched hand? Right here in front of your face? And did you not just hear me say “Hey sweetie, can you hand me the thingy?” like three seconds ago? Okay now it’s been like ten seconds. Fifteen freaking seconds. Now give me the thingy. Seriously hand me the thingy. The muscles in my arm are trembling with exertion from holding my arm out waiting for you to hand me the thingy. OMG IF YOU DON’T HAND ME THE THINGY RIGHT THIS SECOND I’M GONNA EXECUTE EVERY MOTHER FUCKING LAST ONE OF YOU!  Oh, wait, that’s a line from Pulp Fiction. Probably not applicable in this situation.

The ultimate super fun version of waiting for my kids to hand me something is when I’m waiting for them to hand me something in the car, with my arm all twisted backwards into the backseat and I’m in real imminent danger of dislocating my shoulder. This scenario also happens to be the one in which my children are most likely to never ever EVER hand me the thingy. They just drop the thingy on the floor of the car and don’t bother to tell me because they so enjoy toying with my sanity.


cut a bitch
How I react when my kid takes too long to hand over the thingy.


2)      When I take a tiny bite of a strawberry and my glands squirt saliva into my mouth with such unholy ferocity that I am pretty sure I’m going to die from the white-hot searing pain. Would someone please tell me why this only happens with strawberries? And heaven forbid I eat one of those little bastards first thing in the morning when my saliva glands have been on hiatus for the last 13 hours. Excruciating, and very much makes me want to cut a bitch. And by bitch, I mean strawberry. Yeah, I’ll cut that overzealously flavorful strawberry bitch right in half, then I’ll take an angry, resentful sip of something sweet but not too sweet—apple juice, for example—a warm-up for the saliva glands, if you will. Finally, I will very, VERY gingerly place that little asshole strawberry on the tip of my tongue as a test to see if my mouth is really ready for all that intense sensation. These are necessary precautions lest I end up writhing in agony on the kitchen floor. Yeah, that’s right: I have to prep my mouth for strawberry consumption. God this pisses me off.



3)      When I try to take a quick pee while brushing my teeth (SHUT UP! YOU DO IT TOO AND YOU KNOW IT, YOU LYING LIARPANTS!!!!) and am surprised by an unexpected poo, and then I have to sit there and wait while I finish my business and my mouth overflows with saliva and toothpaste. This is an extremely uncomfortable situation, and really makes me want to cut a bitch. And by bitch, I mean myself, because what kind of dingaling sits down on a toilet with absolutely zero foreknowledge of an impending poo? I feel like this is not normal. On the bright side, my bowels are so healthy that I do not even think to consider them. Silver linings, guys. Silver fucking linings.

Ahhh, now that feels better. It really is good to talk about these things, you guys. So tell me, what things make you want to cut a bitch? Comments are for venting. ;)

If this post made you giggle (and thereby prevented you from acting out with rage about something stupid that pissed you off today), please be sure to share it and subscribe to Abandoning Pretense so you never miss another delightfully pretense-free post!

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  1. I feel as though #2 needs further explanation…. Are you referring to that sweet tart pucker in the back of your jaw that makes you twitch grimace and smile all at once? Hate that. Love #3. Bahaha. Looking forward to more of your spreadsheet!! I have a long list too but my giggling is preventing me from naming any at the moment.

  2. I love that your anger needs a spreadsheet. I have to try that but I’m afraid I’d get too angry to complete it. Oh, and Excel annoys me when it suddenly does math I didn’t ask it to.

  3. I call them “sneakypoo’s” and it happens to me all the time. EXCEPT, I usually don’t have the luxury of being at home. Mine happen in the office, mall, restaurant bathroom (but only the ones that are super tiny, with like 2 toilets. So there’s someone waiting on me) or at a friends house. In their front powder room. While they’re waiting on me to walk me to the door. Shitty timing.

    • YES! Same things always happens to me! I call them “sneak attacks!”

  4. waiting. Why why WHY is it mandatory for mom to come running immediately to see or do whatever and the kid or spouse cannot reciprocate in less than 5-25 minutes??????????