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Until yesterday I was convinced everyone who owns, or uses a bluetooth headset is a giant assface.

Don’t give me your safe driving bullshit. If I can talk on the phone, eat a grilled cheese sandwich, keep a pug away from said sandwich while driving, then you can use a phone. If you can’t, please pull your car over.

Yes, I’m serious.

But wait, remember the “until yesterday” part? Yeah.

Last night, my niece, Hannah called me from her dad’s douchetooth. Usually I hang up on people using them, but you can’t do that to a five-year-old.

When Hannah and I talk on the phone it’s usually a two minute conversation, but with the douchetooth she talked for twenty minutes. I know everything there is to know about her life. I know that hot dogs don’t come with pink glitter sauce, her brother doesn’t have any girlfriends, that her bedroom walls just got painted green and that she loves me to the moon and back. Pretty much it was the best conversation I’ve ever had on the phone. And that makes me incredibly happy.

Well, except the part about the pink glitter sauce. That I gotta fix ASAP.

On my last birthday when my niece, Hannah, asked how old I was I told her 16. I’d forgotten all about it until she called me sobbing last week.

“Auuuuuunt Sarah…. Daddy said you’re a grown up.”

“Honey your dad is a big, fat liar.”

“He is?”

“Yes. I’m 16 years old and that is not an adult. Don’t ever listen to him again.”

She sniffled for a minute and said, “OK, I won’t.”

Fast forward to last night, when I met the twins and their mom at the Gateway mall for some dinner and shopping.

Hannah and I were paying for a purchase at Urban Outfitters when the cashier asked for my driver’s license.

As I handed it over Hannah said, “Aunt Sarah I’m soooo glad you FINALLY got your driver’s license since you drive me to school sometimes.”

I should have just ignored the scowl from the cashier, but no I’m the girl who has to explain everything. “Oh, don’t listen to that. I’m not really driving her around illegally. I’m just lying to her a lot more than usual.”

Sigh.

I’m sure that statement totally fixed her image of me. Not that I actually care, but I hate the idea of getting calls from Child Protective Services when I’m not even a parent.

My beloved niece and nephew have a new addition to their home:

You know what word is practically impossible to screw up? PUG! They should get one.

My niece, Hannah, was admitted to the hospital this weekend after having some trouble breathing on her own.

When I walked into the pediatric unit to visit I sailed right though security. Ben, on the other hand, was stopped. This hospital has a strict no molestation policy. Maybe now he’ll finally understand his mustache isn’t funny, but instead creepy as shit.

Hannah is now home and doing much better. Though I do think they may have released her early just to prevent Ben from coming back.

My family had a BBQ to celebrate Mother’s Day yesterday. Nothing says thanks for creating me like fat, juicy hamburgers and homemade cinnamon rolls.

I should have helped in the kitchen, or at least pretended to help; however someone had to jump on the trampoline with the kids and look like a jackass.

I’m that jackass… anything to get out of kitchen duty.

ANYTHING.

Here’s the video to prove it:

I edited out the part where I explain to my niece that we can no longer jump high because it makes Aunt Sarah pee her pants. That part is OK on film, but what’s not OK is when I explain to a child that I have an old lady bladder and that she’s going to totally have to change my diapers when I’m old because I changed hers. In exchange for diaper duty I had to agree to poop pink glitter. I think that’s more than fair.

Happy Mother’s Day to all the mommies out there, especially mine! I love her enough to change her diapers when she’s old even if her poop isn’t pink glitter. I love you Mommy!

Teaching five-year-olds the art of ‘your mom’ jokes is not an easy undertaking. I wouldn’t suggest doing it sober. After I explained to my nephew, Carter, how to properly make one, we had a practice session. IT DID NOT GO WELL!

Carter: “You’re silly.”

Me: “Your mom is silly.”

Carter: “She is really, really silly. I love her.”

Me: “Buddy that’s now how it works. Let’s try it again.”

Carter: “You smell like diapers.”

Me: “Your mom smells like diapers.

Carter: “NO SHE DOESN’T! She smells pretty. You smell pretty too Aunt Sarah. Like cookies.”

I gave up and told him we’d try again when he was older, and maybe then he would understand. His twin sister Hannah got upset and said,  “Aunt Sarah I get it, but I’m older by three whole minutes so I’m smarter.” To which I replied, “No Hannah you’re smarter because you’re a girl.”

I feel like honestly is always the best policy, especially with young and impressionable children.

My favorite thing about Christmas is spending time with my niece and nephew.  Everything is more entertaining when you have the comedy of four-year-old.  EVERYTHING.

Realizing that I hadn’t started my holiday shopping I asked my niece, Hannah, yesterday what she wanted for Christmas yesterday.

“A pink scooter, please.”

“Wow, that’s a big gift.  What if Aunt Sarah can’t get you a pink scooter, then what do you want?”

“A purple scooter.”

“Hannah, let me explain this to you.  Scooters are pretty expensive and Aunt Sarah can’t afford to buy a real scooter for you.  Is there something else you want?  Maybe a book, or a Barbie?”

“A Barbie scooter, please.”

I guess this is my own fault for storing my scooter in my brother’s garage for the winter.  She got a taste of the good life and wants one. I can’t blame really her for that, now can I?

“Aunt Sarah, do you want to see my new Hello Kitty shirt?”

“Only if I can wear it.”

“It won’t fit you silly Sarah.”

“Wanna bet?”

My niece and nephew’s mom emailed me to share this story:

Hannah took one of her many cell phones to school for show-n-tell.  In the car she decided it necessary to make some calls. Sarah being first on the list.  She started talking to you about how she was annoyed that I made her wear socks to school today vs. her flip-flops (she even rolled her eyes as I watched her through the rear-view mirror). Then she started telling you how pretty you are and how she wants to be pretty like you.  Then she said, “I know Sarah, I’m very pretty too.”    Carter stepped in and told me, “Actually, I think Aunt Sarah is pretty”.

Let me tell you, it couldn’t have come at a better time.  I’m currently having a fat week, an ugly week, a zit week and to top it all off a bad hair week.  Needless to say, I’m not feeling at all pretty this week.  Kids are as honest as they come so if they think I’m pretty I’m set.