The “Would You Rather” game is HUGE in our house, especially at holiday meal time. Typical questions are usually spewed out by my sons…
“Would you rather wrestle an alligator with one hand tied behind your back, or have someone stick you in the eye with a burning hot piece of metal?” Boys – so uninventive.
So today, I thought I’d make up a few of my own “would you rather” scenarios in honour of all the mothers, wives, and women around the world. Here goes…
Would you rather make dinner every day for the rest of your life, or never have to make dinner again but have someone hand-stitch one – just one – of your eyelids shut?
Would you rather clean up your kid’s barf after they ate all-you-can-eat sushi, or barf yourself after cleaning up your kid’s barf after they ate all-you-can-eat sushi? Yeah, you’re right. This one’s obvious.
Would you rather have someone call you a bitch, or have someone tell you that your skirt has been hiked up all afternoon and that everyone and their brother now knows that you wear a leopard-print thong. Strange that you didn’t feel the draft, but this is hypothetical. Just answer the damn question already.
Would you rather pay for your daughter to have braces (and her teeth are REALLY screwed up, like her whole jaw needs realigning), or coach your son’s soccer team when you know absolutely nothing – and I do mean NOTHING, like you think a goal is worth four points – about soccer, and it’s a competitive league, and the kids are fifteen and sixteen years old, and all the other parents will be watching your every pathetic attempt to show them what to do. And you’re knocked-kneed, and you look really stupid running. LOL, I can’t even comprehend the horror of the second part. I think I’d rather be dead.
Would you rather have sex on a night that you don’t really want to, or have your husband tell you that he’s “just not interested” and that there’s (suspiciously) “no particular reason why, he just isn’t”?
Would you rather do a full grocery shop – alone – at Walmart on a busy Saturday afternoon with three kids under the age of three, or take your seventeen-year-old daughter and her two girlfriends shopping at the mall to spend an undetermined amount of YOUR money? I guess this one’s pretty obvious as well. An “undetermined amount of money”? Are you kidding? I’ll take the temper tantrums and evil looks from onlookers over how I can’t handle three young children any day.
Would you rather get a box of Bran Buds for your birthday, or Call Of Duty: Black Ops for PlayStation 3? Married? It happens.
Would you rather vacuum up that expensive earring you just lost, or vacuum up wet-ish cat poop?
Would you rather get squirted in the face with a juice box, or punched in the crotch by a one-year-old?
Would you rather your husband had a secret crush on Penelope Cruz, or on the neighbour lady who looks a lot like Roseanne Barr? The way I see it, the Roseanne lookalike is much more attainable, and therefore way more of a threat.
Would you rather clean up after the washing machine leaked – you have a second floor laundry room and there is water and soap everywhere – or clean up the juice jug that someone spilled and it went all under the fridge?
Would you rather have your husband’s parents come to live with you, or have flies in your house all the time because your kids never shut the screen door and your compost bucket sits on the back deck. And no, you can’t move the compost bucket – it is nailed down.
Would you rather have someone tell you that you looked pregnant when you’re not, or have someone tell you that you just look fat?
Would you rather get naked with Colin Farrell and a baby goat, or Anderson Cooper and nothing?
Would you rather get your finger caught in the blender, or your toe caught in the lawnmower?
Would you rather go to the hairdresser and have them turn your hair green before your daughter’s dance recital, or before your son’s graduation? Someone will be taking pictures at both, but the dance recital images are more likely to end up in the newspaper. Both will end up on the internet. There’s nothing you can do about that.
Would you rather have your child swear at a teacher in grade four, or in grade ten?
Would you rather walk in on your daughter having sex with her boyfriend, or your son diddling himself? Oh God, either one of these would make me want to fling bleach into my eyes.
Now, if all of this craziness isn’t enough for you, then there’s “Would You Rather” the official website. Their ideas are not as good as mine, but it’s better than nothing.
Happy Monday everybody. I don’t have cramps or a headache – not yet anyway.