478

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Thursday. About 2 weeks ago, my kids were having one of those days that they hated each other deeply. Mostly they make teams and some one steps up for the other, but that day, they were all against all and it didn’t take long for them to start fighting real fights with punches, kicks, hair pulling and you name it.
Every time it’s like that, the two oldest have advantage.
If I remember correctly, my second son (the one who likes to hide things), probably hid my oldest son’s phone, so when the oldest said: “GIVE ME MY PHONE” and the second one didn’t, he picked up 2nd son’s school bag and threw it away and after the broken glass noise and the: “Please forgive me, please forgive me”, I run to see what had happened and found this:

That’s my front door.

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I’m not sure how I still have 5 kids because I could have strangled one (or 4) with my bare hands.

I panicked and called the owner of the house. He came to helped me call the insurance company and the people who had to replace the glass.
Since the front door has some special double glass, they had to be ordered to a glass company so I got a provisory solution made out of freaking cardboard and masking tape.

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WTF!! I sleep terribly when I feel safe, you have no idea how scared I was these past 2 weeks.
Before going to sleep, I put 2 chairs against the door and some chimes hanging as alarm.
They said: “We’ll replace the glass next week”. They didn’t do it the following week, it took 2 weeks.
Two weeks that I had to sleep with the noise of the plastic bag and cardboard moving and almost pooped my panties every single night.

Yesterday, they finally came. They started taking out the rest of the glass that was still hanging there and I wanted to take a picture of them while they were working. At the time, I was making toasts in this little oven that has a timer, so I opened the kitchen door to sneak a picture, pointed the iPod at them and just when I was about to shoot, the f#$king timer beeped and the two men turned around and I had to pretend I was on the phone… and run to kitchen to laugh my ass off.
But I wanted my picture!! So I waited a bit, opened the door slightly and shot.
I know, I’m a grown-up… but some things I just can’t resist.

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Yay!!! I was smiling and decided to sit in the living room to have breakfast while listening the 2 men talking and talking and discussing something.
At one point one of them knocked on the door: “Ma’am” “Yes?” “There was a little problem… the glass is too small”.

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According one of them, the glass company sent a smaller glass but it could easily be that the sucker measured wrong.
In any case, I’ll have to wait another 2 weeks for the new glass.

I asked the men: “Is this safe?” “Of course!!” So they were kind of hitting and pushing the door to show me… You should have seen my face, I was as we say in my country: “Con los huevos en la garganta”. And this one will be nice to explain.
Literally: “With the eggs in the throat”. Apparently, when men get really scared or anxious, it’s said that their testicles migrate to the throat…
Testicles = balls = eggs.

I promise I’m a girl, that’s just an expression.

And I found pictures to illustrate it!!

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I wonder who buys that shirt! It’s very fitting for times of exams, the final match of the World Cup or Superbowl if your team is playing.

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~ by DotedOn on December 17, 2015.

17 Responses to “478”

  1. Reblogged this on SURVIVORS BLOG HERE.

    Like

  2. Oh my! Seems like a terrible place to wear underwear. I prefer mine where they are. πŸ˜€

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Oh wow, what a nightmare. At least you have a safe temporary solution. Those illustrations are funny but a bit disturbing!!

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Wow you were so unsafe! Honey hugs πŸ™‚ 5 children must be hard work but at the same time very rewarding.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. I’m sorry to hear your case! Hope everything is ok for you! The last two photos made me laugh continuously like crazy!!! lol πŸ˜€ πŸ˜€ πŸ˜€

    Liked by 1 person

  6. That shirt… I just can’t even… nope, never, not me. Not even.

    Liked by 1 person

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