Welcome to MY Cracked Eggs. Padded rooms are on the right, straitjackets are on the left. Don’t bother looking for the doctor, he has be replaced by me. Get your apron on because we are going to beat some eggs and pound some meat. Just give me a minute, mommy is trying to type. We may or may not turn off the mixer before we let the kids lick the paddle. I don’t know, depends on my mood and whether or not they have lobbed any Lego grenades at me today. (Seriously, it’s happened before.)
Here, anything you can do to hold onto to that last strand of sanity you have left is welcome. Boys, come on, just let me get this done and I will turn on the Wii-U. Omg, just give me five fucking minutes to finish this! You see, I have one nerve left and my children believe it is the perfect place to practice their River Dancing on. So even though Orange is the New Black and I look amazing in shades of pumpkin I would really prefer not to go to jail and have to make Bertha my bitch.
This site is not for the weak of heart or easily offended but hey if you are a mom of devil spawn it is the place for you. Hey! Stop that! No you cannot use your brothers head as a golf tee! Put that 9 Iron down! You would be surprised just how therapeutic baking some cookies and slaughtering a goblin or two can be. Plus, you get to eat the cookies after all the work is done. Yeah, I have pretty much given up ever getting rid of my spare tire, in fact I would rather have two of them. With my luck, I’ll get at least two flats, you know other than my boobs after breastfeeding my trio of tyrants.
I believe I have rambled enough. Time to get down to business. Okay, that’s it! I am going to delete your PSN account if I… No, seriously. I don’t care if he put food coloring in your shampoo that is no reason …. Food coloring? Wait, you were in my baking shit? ~takes a deep breath~ Yeah, I gotta go before my boys revert to chimpanzee’s and start hurling feces at each other. Welcome to Jenn’s Cracked Eggs.