When I Grow Up I Think I'll Be...

I've been thinking a lot about what I'd like to do when I decide it's time to go back into the "actually pays money" workforce.

I mean, I LOVE being a full-time mommy and all, but getting paid in Soggy Diapers and Booger Slime Nose Surprise kind of gets a little.... "not money"-ey sometimes.

And I have big plans for the dinero sitting in my bank account, all lonely and forgotten. It needs to be added to, eventually, so that I can achieve those dreams.

But I digress.

Here are the options I've come up with so far:

1) Bouncer/Fight Breaker Upper on a "Spoiled Rich Girl Learns Life Lessons" reality show. This might just be the easiest job in the world. When they start screaming at each other over "who drank who's boxed wine" and throwing marinara sauce on each other, I'd hop in there and dominate. They may fight back, but they couldn't possibly expect to win or even hurt me. These girls have ZERO muscular strength from refraining from all manual labor more strenuous than sexting their boyfriends. And even if they did try to scrap with me, the fight would be over the minute I scuffed their Jimmy Choos or broke one of their nails. Or pulled out their fake hair tracts. Although I'd probably throw some good punches their way anyway to help them learn that "violence doesn't solve your boxed wine crisis". They wouldn't stand a chance against me. I lift my 20 pound Wonder Son all day; I'm a veritable beast.  Bottom Line: Someone's gotta keep those whiny anorexic bitches in check.

2) Camera Woman/ Technician for any "Survivor" type reality show.  I'd be all up the wilderness, filming these starved, half crazed, game players, GRUBBIN' ON MASS AMOUNTS OF CHEESEBURGERS. There's really no rhyme or reason as to why I want this job, other than my desire to do it for the irony. I want to watch these people's faces as I stand there filming them, deliberately chewing ever so slowly on a double decker extra bacon cheesy cheesy cheeseburger. With fries. Maybe a cherry turnover. And definitely a cupcake. Maybe two.

Which brings me to my third and most coveted position of...

3) Cake Taste-Tester/Judge on ANY Baking reality show. I WANT THIS JOB most of all. Imagine, me, sitting on a cozy little stool, cuddled up to plate after plate of delicate, moise, expertly prepared and cleverly presented cake...
O. M. Geezus it would be perfect. Devil's Food, Italian Cream, Southern Lemon.... the list goes on and on. And so does the string of drool from my chin. I know what you're thinking. "But Krista, you like ALL kinds of cake; and the job is to judge the good and bad of the Caking World; wouldn't you just say that they're all wonderful?"
To that I say, not so. Every 8th plate of cake, or so, I'd act completely disgusted and enraged by whatever slice of red velvet just happened to be the unlucky victim of my rage. I'd raise Cain, throwing the unsuspecting cake to the floor, stomping it to all smithereens, then using the plate it came on to beat the poor baker's kneecaps in and bite off his or her ear; thereby securing my job for the future, and cementing my reputation as The Authority On All Things Delicous And Of Cake.



So those are the Fields of expertise that I'm looking into. Let me know which one you'd chose, and which one you think I would thrive in the best.


In other news, my kid is being kind of funny this week. He's trying....new things.

Ronin's Top Seven New Actions That Make Me Laugh:

1. I keep finding him pulling out little pieces of carpet and quickly trying to shove them in his mouth to eat them before I can stop him.

2. Ditto for cat food. The cats knock a few pieces out of their bowl and he has amazing homing-device-like ability when it comes to locating and eating the renegade Ocean Delight nuggets. Sometimes, I'm not fast enough and he ends up successfully eating the cat food. I guess it must be good because he keeps going back for more.

3. I have the coffee table pushed up flush with the couch. He "tap dances" on the coffee table, then dives face first into the couch cushions. This cracks him up. He does it again and again; it's our new favorite game.

4. He attempts to do somersaults on the floor. He gets his head down on the carpet, one hand on either side, and straightens his legs putting his little booty high up in the air. He teeters precariously from side to side for a while, and then kind of flops limply to one side. He'll be the next Paul Hamm.

5.  When I have the refrigerator open he runs over and takes the lettuce out, and puts it back in, and takes it out, and puts it back in, and takes it out, and puts it back in...

6.  If I hand him anything soft (blanket, pillow, stuffed animal, Pillow Pal, jacket...) he holds it up to his cheek and cuddles it, melting into it until he's in the Fetal Position just grinning away and cuddling his Soft Thing. This goes for our cats too, if they make the mistake of getting within arm's reach of him.

7. Ronin likes to "pet" me now. I taught him how to gently pet our cats; to caress them instead of pulling their fur, and I guess he thinks that the same goes for Mama. He sits in my lap and strokes my shin. He'll kind of rub the side of my face if I'm holding him. I love it. It's as if he's saying "there's a good mommy. Sweet Mommy. Nice Mommy."


Thanks for reading! Don't forget to comment so that I know which path to take my career in.