Hatin' It

Don't you hate it when...

You get out of the shower at 5:00 a.m., all ready for your hour nap before waking the kids, and one of your dogs decides to be all big and bad? Like emit a baur...baur...baur.........baur sound for 45 minutes. Not quite a bark, that baur. And not for any reason. Just baur. And when you think you've heard the last baur... .... you haven't.

You tell your son his breath is bad, and he says, "Actually...I just farted."

A student does a good deed of emptying the pencil sharpener, and puts it back that funky way where the long part is at the back, not hanging down where it would catch more shaverage?

The girl who corrects your pronunciation to save you future embarrassment is not in class, due to preparing the ParkingSpaceStealer's 50th birthday extravaganza, and you come across a word referring to rock walls that jut into the ocean to slow beach erosion, and the word is "groin", but you don't think the regular pronunciation of 'groyn' is correct, but perhaps something more fancy, like 'grow in' might be more appropriate, but you are left hanging? Fie on that ParkingSpaceStealer!

There are only about 3 people you can trust in your whole workplace?

The secretary sends an office worker to your class 7th hour to ask about a specific kid and whether he was tardy 6th hour or didn't show up at all, and you have to tell her that you don't even have a class 6th hour, so you doubt the question was meant for you, since you certainly did not record an electronic attendance thingy 6th hour, because that would be impossible, what with no class roster to launch it from, and she looks at you like YOU are the crazy one, as you stroke your Old Red Gradebook lovingly and let one single tear slide down your cheek?

You get the wrong mail in your mailbox, not even addressed to the same street address, and it is a card saying it is time for 'Candy' to go to the vet, but it doesn't say what Candy is wanted for, which makes you think that by the time you get around to dumping that odd postcard back into the USPS's circulation, Candy might be on her last legs, or leg, pulling her nether regions around on a wheeled cart, waiting for a doggie kidney transplant or something, unless Candy is a snake, in which case she wouldn't be on her last legs, but maybe has an impacted wisdom fang, and needs competent medical care STAT, and you hate to think that you are the one making her suffer?

You don't have an idea for a real post, and type up something like this?

BAUR!