Saturday, June 28, 2014

Which came first, the head or the headache?

I've recently come to a troubling conclusion:  my brain makes my head hurt. Not in an 'overworked-woman-changing-the-world-one-organic-goats-milk-cream-filled-pastry-at-a-time-while-weaving-hemp-into-dolphin-thongs-and-raffling-them-off-with-all-proceeds-benefiting-orphans-in-Africa' kind of way. Don't get me wrong. That's fine and dandy if you're a soy nut munching momma that recycles toilet paper to pay homage to Mother Earth. It's just not me.

Do you have frequent headaches?  I do, and while Doogie can't seem to figure out why, I've turned to depsychologicizing myself in an effort to reveal the true source of my pain. I'm narrowed it down to a few contributing factors that I'll be disclosing in no particular order.

Being Straight as an Arrow

I'd better clarify that one lest I get myself a reputation as a round-heeled Roxanne. My neck don't curve. I've got the x-rays to prove it, but due to the commanding presence of other mitigating circumstances, I'm not asking the FBI Barbies to close out my list with a soul-stirring quote from Angela Lansbury just yet.

The last time I went to a chiropractor, he really helped me. I was without pain for the first time in weeks, and there was nothing illegal involved! He told me some exercises to practice (laughable, I know) and told me that I needed to practice "wearing my princess tiara" in an effort to restore order to the universe. You see, with him being a highly paid medical professional and all, his wife apparently lives in a world where being slouchy is near the top of the doo-doo list, sitting just below eating cheesecake in your underwear as the young'uns run through the sprinklers naked...during your neighbor's outdoor wedding. But I digress...

This dude has no idea who he's talking to. Do you know the last time I wore a tiara? Probably at a Phi Mu Alpha party...in college...in northern Alabama. That's all I have to say about that. Nowadays, my tiara more closely resembles this little gem right here.    As much good as Dr. Snap-Crackle-Pop-Guy's-Fixed-Me! did, I still have headaches all the time.

Lingering Effects of Fast Food Addictions

As hard as it is to believe, I didn't get this smokin'
hot bod by eating tofurkey wraps. As a teenager, I
ate copious amount of poverty level tacos. I'm not
talking about fish tacos with garden fresh salsa and
organic lettuce sprigs. I'm talking Taco Bell in all it's goopy cheese, imperishable mush meated, same-in-same-out goodness. (Don't act like you don't know what that means.)

Or perhaps it's a backlog of pink slime in my spleen. I don't know, but thinking about the things I used to consume makes me marvel at the fact I'm still walking upright. I'm surely a Darwinian nightmare.

There are a couple of food facts that make me feel like a unicyclist with vertigo stuck on a merry-go-round. (Insert best quote from our vacation this year:  "Whoa! A black dude on a unicycle! That's straight up gangsta!") Take a look at a McDonald's french fry...from 1982. It still looks exactly the same now as it did then. Why doesn't it do the same for people?

Second of all, if they can add all of these disgusting fillers and additives to the pink slime to make their chicken nuggets taste so damned good, why can't they make vegetables taste good? My God, have you ever eaten a beet? I tried sneaking some into some baked goods once upon a time, and I swear on the First Baptist's cookbook that someone snuck into my kitchen, consumed the aforementioned cornucopia of tacos, and proceeded to take the Browns to the Super Bowl in my best cake pan. So the additives aren't good for you...but asparagus infused with yummy toxic goo is better than pink slime with yummy toxic goo, no?

Children

God knows I love my children more than Disney World, but children do, in fact, make your head hurt. My three children have never misbehaved, so that's not what I mean. For pete's sake, I have to beat them off of each other or the hugging never stops, and if I have to tell them one more time to stop cleaning or reading in their rooms for countless hours, my head will surely explode. (Yes, the penultimate head pain goes full circle.)

It's the nonstop noise that puts me on the one way bus to Shady Pines.

"Momma, he called me a butthole! I tolded him I don't like him, and he said he's gonna put me in the toilet and AAUGH! There's a spider in the bathroom! Don't put me in the toilet with a spider! Mommy, can spider's swim? Can they jump? Can they bite you on the booty? If you get a spider in your butt, will you die? Will it die? If you poop on a spider, will it drown?"

"I did NOT say I was gonna put her in the toilet! I said she's being a terd! Hey...wait a minute...maybe I would put her in the toilet. Hey, Emma, you know who else lives in the toilet? Ana and Elsa. They sing about it all the time!  LET IT GO! GOT TO GO! CAN'T HOLD IT IN ANYMORE!"

"MOMMY!!!! HE SAID ANA AND ELSA LIVE IN THE TOILET, AND HE THINKS MY FAVORITE SONG IS STUPID! BUBBY! FROZEN IS NOT ABOUT POOPING IN THE POTTY. YOU'RE A POOPY HEAD AND I'M A PRINCESS."

(She suddenly switches personalities.)

"I'm the lost princess, aren't I?" (Said child proceeds to lift their leg and annihilate an army of barking spiders in one fail swoop.)

But anyway...if you can think of any reason my head still hurts, please let me know. As my gangsta child used to say, "pea soup, A-town."

1 comment:

  1. lol that was so cute. I re,e,ber when my kids were that young.
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