Memos From a Grouchy Pregnant Lady

Dear Manager at Walgreens:

Could you please stop being so nice?  I have a lot of pent up anger and I really want to unleash it on you.  I mean, I’ve been stuck in your store with all three of my kids for forty minutes and no one has been able to find our pictures.  And now you want me to upload the Walgreens ap to my phone so I can resend the pictures because you can’t even find my order?  Stop apologizing.  Don’t give me that $10 gift card.  Don’t reprint my pictures this instant.  Why aren’t you charging me for them? 

Ugh. Now I’m unhappily a forever customer and still angry on the inside.

The Grouchy Pregnant Lady



To Spring Break:

Apparently you’ve forgotten why you exist.  The words “Spring Break” mean sunshine and flowers, not snow and thirty degree temperatures.  I’m supposed to send the kids out to the back yard to play and get filthy, while I sit in the gazebo and write frantically.  Instead, we were all trapped indoors watching Wreck-It-Ralph over and over, and listening to Sarah Silverman’s voice until we prayed for the DVD to break.  Or…at least I was praying. 

You owe me some sunny day and I’m collecting now.

The Grouchy Pregnant Lady



To My Husband Who Left Half a Cheesecake on the Counter Overnight: 

I can’t even…*shakes head*

The Grouchy (and now Hungry which means even Grouchier) Pregnant Lady

P.S.  I blame you for all things. 


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