Many of my blogin' friends start the week with a post called Monday Musings.
Musings is to deep a word for a women who is woken Monday morning from her bed on a five foot high pile of laundry by a thirteen year old asking if he has to go to school.
Musings is way too profound a word for the foggy jumbled thoughts that spurt randomly from the brain of that women as she stares blankly at the ruins of Fridays' Maniacal cleaning frenzy wondering who forgot to sound the tornado warning.
Monday Musings is way to brilliant literary alliteration for someone too hung over from overeating Sundays' dinner to remember which school and which drop off times are assigned to each of the seven laddies shuffling through the kitchen looking for weekend homework and Pop Tarts.
So my beginning of the week posts are duly dubbed, 'Mondays' Muddled Mutterings', I realize that mutterings doesn't appropriately describe things written; however, keeping my muddled, random thoughts in my head for a post is better for the many men in my life who seem put off when I do actually mutter.
It also occurs to me that some of you amazing writers out there may rightly surmise that I'm attempting to disguise my Moms' and, come to think of it, every English teachers' I've ever had, failure to instill grammatic principals into my head despite obsessively correcting everything I ever wrote, by out alliterizing you. Actually my cover is making up new words and calling it poetic license.
So here is my muddle for this Monday post:
Thursday as Adorable Hubby and I returned from our day trip I glanced out the car window at the truck next to us, all I saw was a hubcap, a wheel and some springy things which I am told are shocks. To say this was a big truck would be significantly understating it; by craning my neck and pressing my nose against the glass I could just make out the driver.
You know what they say about men who buy BIG trucks; if you don't I'm certain a man in your life would love to fill you in.
As the light changed and the truck pulled away I noticed a doggy face barely peering out of the bed of the truck.
Does this breed of dog seem short, wrinkled and well... funny looking, for the image a guy with a really big truck is trying to create?
See doesn't even come close to a brain wave pattern as developed as musing. Feel free to use the title 'Mondays' Muddled Mutterings' as it applies to your attempts to overcome weekends.