I’m at SuperT‘s kid’s birthday party, and the kids are making animal masks out of paper plates. It’s Hamster’s 6th birthday and he’s still pretending to be a cheetah every day.
A party well prepared for and executed by a marvellous creative mom!
Meanwhile, I’m having fancy imported-from-Texas Andersen’s coffee, the kind they serve at Kerbey Lane, and SuperT admonishes her husband to “quit fondling the ice cream scoop”. She turned her back, I grabbed the scoop and gave it a sexy 5-second blow job, nearly making Hamster’s dad pee his pants with laughter. SuperT missed the whole thing.
Then as the Hillsburgh (fancypants! rich!) moms filtered in… I turned to one and was like, “Man, look at this, don’t these glue sticks look weirdly like… tampons?” She looked at me blankly, gasped, and finally said, “Um! Yes! I guess they … Do!”
I’m just way too punchy for this party! I don’t know what hit me. It’s SuperT’s bad influence, she’s the most potty mouthed armpit-farting mom I know.
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