At this morning’s rocket trials, Bob the Rocket accidentally found its way to the roof of the Middle School. Since it was the third and final trial, Hugh and I sent the boys back to class and set about finding a ladder with which to rescue the wayward Bob. This proved far more difficult than one might imagine.
During our search, we entered the wood shop where a class was in session. Imagine entering a building where band saws whir away, nail guns pop menacingly and sanders grind wood into a fine dust. Now, imagine the shock of all those tools being manned by bloody zombies because, that is the scene that greeted us, today. Blood, gore, bandages, splints, crutches, it was like the a hospital waiting room in Pamplona after the running of the bulls and; it took me a solid minute to remember that it was Fake Injury Day and not a class of really, really clumsy wood shoppers.
I am genius, hear me roar.
Speaking of my genius, while running errands today, I accidentally ran the words shoes and situation together when describing my dismay at not being able to find shoes to match The Teenager's homecoming dress. The result of the grammatical error was a fabulous new word; shituation. I don’t know about you but, I find myself in lots of predicaments that could easily be described at shituations thus, it is my new go-to word for such occasions. Example: We have a serious shituation, here; a horde of pre-teen zombies has taken over the wood shop, demanding braiiinnns.
Admit it, it’s a great word. In fact, feel free to use it in your next conversation about zombies. Or, you know, whatever the shituation calls for.