The Plan: A Clean Tub, Lots Of Bubbles, Wine, Boston Cream Pie And James Taylor

Calgon, take me away. Please! Just put me in a tub encased by a gigantic bubble and let me float far, far away. But not my tub. I want a clean tub. And I want lots and lots of bubbles, a bottle of wine, fried chicken livers, a man servant in a loin cloth feeding me Boston cream pie, a head massage, and live music performed by James Taylor. Is that too much to ask? Just give me my big ass bubble filled with treats and let me float away! I'll come back, I promise. I just need a fucking break, okay???

Guess what I learned today? My eldest son rear ended somebody. Once again I have to be the problem solver, the fixer, the strategic planner, the coordinator, the adviser. I know, accidents happen but can't some of this shit that's going down be spaced apart. Does all-that-is-shitty have to happen all at once? I'm getting pretty sick of it all. 

So let's see, being the designated problem solver I think I've come up with a solution...help the kid file the insurance claim this time then the boy gets his own insurance and when he gets his own insurance he can see how much more it's going to cost him and maybe then he will be more careful. And in the big picture, it will help him grow up and be more responsible. 

Tough love baby. Tough love. It's hard to do but as I think about it I know I have to start booting the boy in the ass with some reality because if I don't I fear the lad will grow up to be like my irresponsible older sibling. The greatest gift I can give 'Crash' is some tough love sprinkled with a hug and topped off with a kiss. Then after I present the boy with his gift I will announce the Complaint Department closed as I hop in my Calgon bath and float far, far away in my treat filled gigantic bubble. And just for the record, nobody's invited to join me...get your own fucking bubble.