humor

othing in my house is sacred. Not a single, solitary thing. I am forced to buy new hairbrushes every week and can always be sure that every hair clip I own is somewhere embedded in a Cabbage Patch head. My ten-year-old steals my clothes because that "really baggy look" is all the rage. I don't know if I am supposed to be offended by this or congratulate myself for being so incredibly hip.
I have no cups to drink from and believe my silverware is being abducted by aliens from outer space. I don't know what intelligent life forms need with a fork but I can only assume they have grown weary of stealing my extra socks.