Things That Make Me Want to Eat My Own Face

Sometimes I allow little annoyances to fester far too long, and they end up surfacing in a bitchy eruption of irrational agitation. And today, I'm feeling particularly volcano-esque. So in order to keep Mount St. All-Hell’s-Broke-Loose dormant a little longer (for the sake of my family), I've decided to let off a bit of steam here. 

Hence, loyal readers (if there are any of you out there), I have decided to share with you a list of Things That Make Me Want to Eat My Own Face, the abridged version:

1. The onion smell in the cutting board. You use it to chop an onion once, and the smell never goes away. It’s like the board is imbibed with the same cutting-edge (ha!) technology that allows Playtex to boast "maximum absorbency" on its products. No matter how hard you scrub, the onion juice lingers, biding its time, preparing to taint every other fruit or vegetable you ever chop. I mean, who doesn't love a good onion melon? Yum!

2. “Easy Open” snack bags. Yeah. Easy. For a pair of freaking scissors. "Tear here," my ass.

3. Girls in booty shorts at the gym. Look, I’m all for girl power. But I don’t care if you’re fat, skinny, an undercover spy, or a well-groomed wombat: I don’t want to see your uterus when I’m working out.

4. Anyone who smokes within a one mile radius of my kids. Really, as much as my kids love running around in their Darth Vader masks, I’m not too keen on the idea of them relying on them for breath support when they're 18.

5. People who use the “word” “irregardless.” Regardless of your nincompoopish beliefs, there is no such thing.

6. Those stupid little plastic T-shaped things that attach tags to clothing. The half on the inner part of the clothing always gets lost on the inside of the garment and ends up scratching your arm/leg/stomach/boob later. Or it falls out, and you find it in the cat puke you have to scrub out of the carpet because your dimwitted feline ate it. Or you have to fish it out of your toddler's mouth because, I mean, hey, who wouldn't find plastic appetizing?

7. Clicky pens that unclick the second you start writing with them. Seriously makes me want to pierce my coratid with a sharp object. Oh wait—Click!—no can do.

8. People who try to tell me that “coffee is bad for your health.” You know what else is bad for your health? An un-caffeinated Mama of twins listening to your unsubstantiated lecture regarding the "dangers of coffee." Now fetch me a Starbucks, bitch!

9. Perpendicular parking spaces. Because life is not a game of Tetris.

10. Accidentally buying the saltines with unsalted tops. How are these even a thing? They’re not called plaintines. Oh, that reminds me:

11. Plantains. Omg, just call it what it is. A banana. A Big. Freaking. Banana.

12. The added scene in Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows: Part 1 where Harry dances with Hermione. If you have to ask WTF I’m talking about, you wouldn’t get it anyway. And you probably belong on my list.

13. Whoever decided to replace lemon Jolly Ranchers with that blue raspberry shit. Go suck a lemon, dude.

14. Shaving my ankles. And knees. And armpits. Really, just shaving in general.

15. Finally getting my hair up in a perfectly groomed bun/braid/ponytail, only to find three or four loose strands hanging down the back of my neck. And then,

16. Yanking them bitches out.

17. The misuse of the word “Oops” in Blue Hat, Green Hat. A quick crash course for people without toddlers: Blue Hat, Green Hat is a board book by Sandra Boynton, intended, I assume, to teach kids about colors and how to get dressed. The problem with the story is the damn turkey. It’s always putting clothing on the wrong body part and saying “Oops.” At the end of the book, it dives into a pool while fully-clothed, and the word “Oops” again appears on the page:

This is no “oops,” folks. “Oops” indicates something unintentional. That stupid turkey had to deliberately climb all the way up the ladder, walk to the end of the diving board, and propel itself into the water. Also note the pointed toes and hands (wings?): quintessential diving form. That turkey knew exactly what it was getting itself into.

18. Cockroaches. Because…cockroaches.

19. Unintentionally putting a half-full coffee mug in the dishwasher. I do this all the freaking time: assume the cup is empty, hastily flip it upside down as I move it toward the dishwasher, and splash coffee all over the floor. If I’m lucky, I get it on my socks, too. If I’m REALLY lucky, it’s still scalding when all of this goes down.

20. Writing sticky note reminders to myself and then losing the sticky notes. Maybe I need to just start taking a Sharpie to my forearm.

21. Assholes who don’t use their turn signals. Please, pull out right in front of me without any warning, especially if my kids are in the car. At least it gives me a clear view of your awesome Calvin-Pissing-on-Various-Sports-Teams-and-Political-Agendas bumper sticker collection.

22. When pretentious people say that some random exotic dish “tastes like chicken.” Then go eat a freaking chicken. Seriously. Direct your high horse to the nearest McDonald’s drive thru, get yourself some McNuggets, and shut up about your toasted brioche rounds, gruyere-and-parmesan beignets, and crab cake canapés (I had to Google all that crap just to spell it correctly; don’t even ask me to try pronouncing it). You know what I hear when you talk about that shit? “Oh, you must try the Hundred Dollar Bill, it really is divine. Especially if you dip it in the Your-Child’s-College-Tuition Sauce.”

23. Anything that costs 99 cents. It’s a dollar. A freaking DOLLAR.

24. The series finale of The Secret Life of The American Teenager. Also the fact that I watched it.

25. Chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream that has ant-turd-sized chunks of cookie dough in it. If you’re gonna advertise a product as “cookie dough ice cream,” I better be able to bake a whole damn cookie out of one freaking scoop. Let’s be real here: That crap you just sold me? Plain ol’ chocolate chip ice cream. And now I have to go blow more money on a roll of Pillsbury Slice and Bake to satisfy my cookie dough craving.

And there you have it. If you have any of your own grievances you’d like to share, or you want to tell me how bad my 99 cent Dunkin' Donut coffee is for my health, feel free to comment below. 

Just be sure to contact me for an “accident” waiver and release of liability first.