Bad Luck–In Fours?

This week, my life deteriorated into a bad episode of The Jerry Springer Show. Ugly things keep rearing their heads behind the black curtain. Surprise!

I left you with Alex’s poison scare. That’s enough excitement for a 24-hour period, don’t you think? Nope. That afternoon, the front end of my car got clipped by a crazy a$$ lunatic driving too fast for a narrow road. Post crash, he lunged out of his pick-up truck with his pants falling down (a show you’d pay to skip, believe me), arms flailing, and screaming profanities that would make Kathy Griffin blush. A modern day Clark Kent appeared out of nowhere and protected me from the unstable crackerjack until the cops arrived. I was just¬†trying to do something nice–going out of my way to get my Mom’s favorite pizza (we’ve been shacking up there all week because our hardwood installers start their days at 11:00 a.m.)–and I was slapped with a $500 deductible.

The freak’s license said he was born on April 1, 1940. I should have known the joke was on me. All week.

My beloved Ashley came home from camp the next day. Wonderful news, if she, in fact, arrived alone. She joins us on the heels of a LICE EPIDEMIC at her camp.

Say it with me: Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwwwwwww!

I am itching just writing about it.

Just some of Ashley's camp haul

Ashley was one of two in her bunk who did not get the creepy crawlers, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t sneak into her suitcases. We quarantined seven weeks worth of clothes in our garage overnight until we could drive the SUV to the Laundromat and wash them in ultra-sudsy, boiling hot water.

Nasty.

Today, I went to our second property (the remnants of my past life) to do a last-minute chore before home inspection. We’re finally closing on August 29 after taking a bath–sorry, lice on the brain—financially, while it sat on the market, vacant, for more than one year. Alex and Ashley waited in the car while I ran in.

Every owner's dream!

Ran is the operative word because the door was busted open!

I walked in to an enraged teenager’s wet dream. Doors were left unhinged. Several cans of paint were splattered on the floor, washing machine, and built-in storage shelves. Walls in two rooms showcased failed anger management punch and kick marks. Marlboro reds, cheap vodka, and beer cans littered rooms. This–in a sleepy suburban town–TWO WEEKS before closing–on a day I spent volunteering for the National Ovarian Cancer Coalition. Hello, Karma? It’s me, Jodi.

We visited Boston businesses to drum up support of the upcoming Run/Walk to Break the Silence on Ovarian Cancer.

Mommyjuice. Stat. Actually, does anyone deliver anything stronger? Don’t mind the house that looks vacant–we’re here–just all of our furniture is tucked in bedrooms, the garage, and the ghetto fabulous 1-800-PACKRAT storage unit in our driveway because our floors aren’t dry enough yet. I am here…and I am still standing. Barely.

Have you had a week like this?

The only good thing that happened this week was Mommy Dish was nominated for a Best Mom Blog (Funniest) Award from Parents Magazine. It was like a ray of sunshine making its way through the apocalypse. My dear readers, if you have laughed with me (or at me–I’ll take what I can get), even once, please do me a personal favor and vote. I want to win this thing, but I can’t do it without you. If I have to pull the bad luck card, I will. Help me turn my luck around–in the two minutes it takes to vote–right here:

http://blog-awards.parents.com/blog-awards/mom_blogs/241-mommy-dish

***I did manage to make Ashley’s favorite little candy treats for her homecoming. I plan on scarfing some down after the week I’ve had, too. Sorry, Ashley Rose.***

Love on a Pretzel

1 bag Snyders of Hanover Snaps

1 bag Chocolate M & Ms

1 bag Hershey Kisses

Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Line pretzels on a cookie sheet and top with Hershey Kisses. Place in the oven for a minute or so, until the chocolate softens. Take them out of the oven and press an M & M in the center of each one. Place in the refrigerator to set for about 30 minutes. Love on a pretzel!

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