This weekend while looking for a used table to refinish, I developed a new web obsession. Craigslist.

If you haven’t been there, don’t go. Some of the deals are unbelievably good. I never found a table, but I did spend the better part of yesterday wondering where I would put the antique dry sink that someone was selling for $25.00. I could probably squeeze it in next to the “NEW” elliptical trainer for which the seller was requesting $10.00. Technically, aren’t all elliptical trainers new, since all they do in most homes is hold clothing?

But, Craigslist isn’t all about buying and selling. There’s a bartering section too. That’s where I found this…

I HAVE TRYING TO GET RID OF MY WIFE. SHE IS DRIVING ME NUTS. WILL SELL FOR THE RIGHT PRICE BUT WANTING A CAR, TRUCK, MOTORCYCLE, 4 WHEELER, PS3 WITH GAMES, 22 INCH RIMS, LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU GOT. I HAVE PICS IF INTERESTED. SEND PICS OF TRADE

If she does windows, I’m going to strike up a deal.

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I was reading my son a book, when I suddenly thought how cute he looked. I smothered him with a great, big hug, then I asked, “Do you know why I am the luckiest Mommy in the world?”

He replied, “Yeah! Because you get to vacuum!”

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At the store recently, I saw a woman pick her son out of a shopping cart, then put his backside up to her nose as she inhaled deeply. I can’t tell you how many times I used to do that, along with grabbing the back of a diaper to judge whether there was a “nugget” inside. And, if I was in a hurry, I would just go ahead and stick my finger right in to feel if it was dirty.

Why is this type of behavior acceptable? Because being a parent gives you free reign to do gross things. When you start a family, you gain children, but you lose your dignity.

The very nature of having kids is rather icky. It may be a miracle, but no matter how a baby comes out, it’s not a pretty sight.

It’s really the day to day parenting that can be rather offensive though. I lost track of the amount of times I’ve licked my thumb to get dirt off a face, and to calm fly-away hair. Not to mention the many instances I slurped formula off my wrist after testing its temperature. Either that, or I just went ahead and wiped it on my pants.

I have come to the rescue as a bug-smasher and dead animal picker-upper. I have caught vomit in my bare hands, and cleaned projectile poop off a wall. It seems to me, being a Mom is much like joining a fraternity.

I have cut toenails which resembled talons, and I’ve pulled a hair out of my gagging daughter’s throat. One of my favorite memories was when she was three, and she decided to go through a spitting phase. I spent an afternoon cleaning up roughly 30 hocker piles off the basement floor.

I have picked boogers with a toothpick, and yanked ear wax out with tweezers. And once, on a playdate at the park, I let my friend’s kid poop in a plastic bag propped up inside my Igloo cooler.

Let there be no doubt…kids are the reason bleach was invented.

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My nine year old daughter loves to send and receive e-mail. It doesn’t even matter if that e-mail comes from someone in her own household. Someone who, instead of typing a few paragraphs, could say the same thing from across the room. I envision her as a teenager, sending text messages to friends seated right next to her.

For the fun of it, she sent my five year old son a message last night, and knowing she would be happy to get a reply, I got on the computer to help him.

I told my son, “We’re going to send your sister an e-mail.”

As he climbed up on a stool I asked, “What do you want it to say?”

And, there should be no doubt that he is his father’s son, because he replied, “Tell her to get a job.”

Though, I don’t think she would earn much of a paycheck, because I can’t even get her to pick up her socks.

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