That was the brightest spot of my day yesterday. Me and my princess watching superheroes.
So far, that's the brightness spot of my day today.
Fuffy ,'Storyteller'
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
That was the brightest spot of my day yesterday. Me and my princess watching superheroes.
So far, that's the brightness spot of my day today.
It really was adorable. They were both all snuggled up under the sheep blanket.
That was the brightest spot of my day yesterday. Me and my princess watching superheroes.
Awwwww. Love this image.
"God took mercy on her and let her come live in a Christian home."
So all the babies that didn't get adopted should be named, "Doomed"?
Reminds me of a Family Circus cartoon that I hate above all others.
In one pannel, one of the kids is praying that God keep his family safe. In the next pannel you see a sterotypical burgler (who's trying to get into their window) being apprehended by the police.
So I guess God is just less likely to answer prayers from high-crime neighborhoods. Or mabye the trouble with people in thos neighborhoods is they don't pray enough....
Quick relief ~ma for omnis.
Yay askye!
Customer support is my main function at work, but I have the easiest customers in the world. (with a few exceptions) Mostly doctors or nurses call me. They are smart, already tried to figure it out, in a hurry so don't want to waste time, grateful when I fix it. I do have a couple whiny babies, (shrinks go figure), but for the most part they rock. They apologize for having to call and are relieved when I assure them it is always the computer's fault, never the user. (they know they screwed it up)
oatmeal:
That was the brightest spot of my day yesterday. Me and my princess watching superheroes.
Awwwwwwwwww. Cutieheads.
omnis, much ~ma to you.
That was the brightest spot of my day yesterday. Me and my princess watching superheroes.
Oof. Too. Cute.
DH and I got into a huge argument last night. After getting up with the kids at six-freakin'-thirty-AM, I spent a normal day taking care of them, running Owen to school and picking up, doing three loads of laundry, making doctors' appointments and calling a plumber, making dinner, feeding the kids and bathing them ALL BEFORE HE GOT HOME at 6:30 p.m.
He got home, ate his dinner, went downstairs to watch Pardon the Interruption. The kids followed him into the playroom. Ten minutes later, I hear a commotion. DH comes upstairs holding a crayon and says (Hand to God, this is a direct quote), "Owen colored on the walls and I blame you because you didn't put the crayons up after craft time."
ME. The person who was on a different floor of the house. Not the parent who was THREE FEET AWAY FROM HIM when he was committing the offense.
I flipped out like a mammal.
After using a Magic Eraser to clean up the crayon. Best. Invention. Ever.
I am now going to share with you the magic ingredient that made it work: The customer service reps were authorized to fix whatever problem people called in with.
Ah, what a lovely Paradise you must have lived in.
The rest of the world evidently decides that they have hired retarded monkeys who cannot be trusted to address problems without somebody holding their hand. And then they walk away, leaving no hand for the monkey to hold.
Given authority and back-up, the reps confidence level will soar, problems will be solved and satisfaction will skyrocket. Lacking that...well, you have what we see all around us today. Resentful reps, tired of being screamed at by people on the phone, tired of being treated like mentally challenged criminals by their superiors and feeling the frustration of being asked to help but not being allowed to do it. With no incentives to really try anyway.
Oh, Cashmere. I would have flipped too. Grrr!