Hockey Masks & Breastfeeding Teenagers. What a Night

Last night I had Girl Teenager & her friend, who is another one of those children that calls me Mom but I didn't have to give birth to, & The Preteen on my bed with me watching American Idol. I love the auditions! We placed bets on which men would be criers & which women would be yellers & cuss at the camera. It was fun.

I was doing homework at the same time which meant I had a lot of highlighters with me. I had Girl Teenager's Friend laying on my lap (is that normal?) & highlighters. I really needed an excuse to stop reading but no one would give me one.

Hmm...sick of homework, highlighters available, distracted children...bad combo for someone with my thought process.

I started out by just tracing the part in Friend's hair with my yellow highlighter. That turned into:

Teen girls are scary enough...she doesn't need to make the face.

We had a mishap right before I took this picture. I went to sit up & Girl Teenager's Friend started saying something at the same time. When there is a child in your lap & you need to sit up...make sure their mouth is not open. 

There was a muffled, "mummflig" & I realized that when you are...ahem...not small in certain areas...you need to make sure there is not a big teenage head on your lap when you lean forward to sit up. My boob went right into her open mouth. Straight in. Like I was giving her a snack. 

We were both so shocked that it took a second before we both jumped back. And then laughed hysterically.  Girl Teenager had a look on her face that was somewhere between shock & horror & not knowing whether to laugh or run away.

I breastfed my babies & toddlers. But a 15 year old...that was a first. Not something I plan to ever do again. And I'm sure Girl Teenager's Friend is scarred forever. The poor child has to live with the memory of a near-lesbian experience with her Mom.

Of course I laughed so hard that I had tears running down my face. And then I got tackled & am still sporting some pink & green highlighter on my left cheek. I guess I deserved that for getting so intimate with this dear sweet child of mine.

Then Cameron Diaz & I took my oldest 2, The Teenagers, to see a movie. It was a horror movie & Cameron Diaz...who I cannot stand, by the way...not that I'd ever met her before this...was all, "Oh, come on, Mom! Let the kids see it."

So we go into this horror movie, only to find out we were not going to be watching the movie. We were part of it. Those guys that walk around with flashlights to see if you have a ticket had us follow them to the screen. Then they pushed us in. The Teenagers & Ms. Diaz were all, "So cool!!" I was all, "Wha...wait...wha...?"

We had to find our way out of a scene from Saw. The room was all dirty cement & there was a dirty bath tub at the end of it. As the kids went towards it, I was telling them, "No! I've seen this movie. Don't go to the bath tub."

As they got near it a wall opened up & men in hockey masks came at us with chain saws. These hockey-masked men are chasing us around saying they wanted our heads. I like my head & I like it on my body, gosh darn it.

I have the strangest dreams. And I have been terrified of hockey masks my entire life, since before I even heard of Jason. And I've never seen the movie because there is no way I want to see a movie with something I'm so terrified of...just like I have never seen The Birds ('cause, yo, birds scare the poo out of me) & I cover my eyes when there are clowns around...or sporks.

Moral of this story? Do not color on anyone's face because you will have a scary dream about Cameron Diaz. And people trying to kill you. I don't know which was worse--a man threatening to cut my head off or her being in my dream.