Hi...remember me? I'm 2016 Summer...I'm from the future. 2012 Summer has no idea what the new and improved world of disco lemonade holds...let me share this tale of which dreams are made of.
If you recall, we left this blog with hope that a possible vagina was growing in my guts and a perfect female would be released onto this planet from my husband's vasectomy unstoppable sperm. Well, hope doesn't exist in this home and that sperm had a wanker attached to a 10 pound baby that was fortunately delivered via C-section (thank you modern medicine for keeping this bitch right and tight).
Here I sit, in the future, where we have hover boards and drones that drop off packages to your front door, 3 boys deep in a sea of piss filled toilet seats. I'm trapped in a never ending guessing game of what the fuck is making that smell and how long has that booger been on the wall. A life filled with directives to not reach into the loaf of bread without washing your hands first because I watched you just 5 minutes ago play pocket pool...sans pockets. Not to mention the ultimate request that is activated by yelling from the bathroom, "MOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!! I'M DONE!!!!!!!"
Thankfully, I'm down to one child that I have to routinely wipe ass...even though I'm facing a lifetime of that chore with my husband. I'm hoping for early onset Alzheimer's so each ass wiping in the future will be like new, strange ass. Then I disappear to the abyss of my mind and piss myself. That's a story better left for 2056 Summer...