Wednesday, September 21, 2011


DEAR THUNDERMATTS: After six years of marriage I am seven months pregnant. I never wanted children and did not expect this to happen. I am determined to be an excellent mother, but it's an intellectual exercise for me. I feel nothing for this baby and I have a hard time imagining our future. I also hate being pregnant.
I can't find any websites for women like me -- they're filled with women cooing over their bellies and fantasizing over their babies-to-be. I mentioned my feelings (or lack thereof) to my husband and he became furious with me. Is there something wrong with me? -- LACKS THE MOTHERING GENE

DEAR LACKS THE MOTHEING GENE: Yes there is. That said, I’m pretty sure there is time left for an abortion.

DEAR THUNDERMATTS: How do you prevent damage in your home from children whose parents will not control them while they're visiting? I keep a box of toys and offer them to the children, but they often prefer to handle my personal objects, many of which are heirloom antiques.
One visitor allowed her child to jump on my sofa, then offered to replace a shattered ceramic bowl her son had thrown like a Frisbee. "It's not replaceable," I told her. "It belonged to my great-grandmother." Her response was that I should have put anything valuable out of reach.
It seems even the most polite suggestion to children angers their parents. My parents would never have allowed me to behave disrespectfully in someone's home. Must I show everyone the door because their children behave like animals? -- WHO'S MINDING THE MENAGERIE?

DEAR MENAGERIE: Who are you friends with? Octomom? (Remember her?) Seriously, which of your friends has such little bastards for kids they run around and throw your shit all around. The problem isn’t the kids, it’s your friends. And next time some little snot nosed shit breaks something of yours, break his face. Seriously, just knock the shit out of that kid. That’ll teach him.

DEAR THUNDERMATTS: I work for a package delivery company and there is a problem that's all too common for people in my line of work. Please tell dog owners to confine their dog before opening a door to accept a package.
I have been bitten twice in the past two years by dogs that "don't bite." I have also been scared more times than I can count by dogs that have charged at me. When a customer takes the time to put their dog in another room before coming to the door, I make sure to let him or her know how much I appreciate it. It's difficult to be pleasant and professional when my heart is racing and adrenaline is raging because someone's dog is barking and running at me.
Thanks, Abby, from my fellow delivery drivers and me. -- TWICE BITTEN IN DAYTONA BEACH, FLA.

DEAR TWICE BITTEN (ONCE A GUY): Don’t call me Abby. That’s weird. Anywho, I’m thinking you might be fat. If so, it’s your own fault. Fat people smell constantly like bologna. That’s science fact. Look it up. If you didn’t smell like bologna, dogs wouldn’t want to eat you. What a fat idiot. You think you’d be thin, since you walk all day. I bet you wear crocs.

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