Ugh, my kid's Halloween candy stash is like 99% Butterfingers. Butterfinger really pimped itself out this year with coupons, so I guess all the extreme couponers out there went and grabbed those suckers by the skid full. (I chose to go with the Hershey, Mars, and Wonka coupons myself. Coupons! Woot!) I prefer to hand out the less insulting candy. I have never been laughed at and called a Snickers, or Milky Way, or Kit Kat... well maybe a Nerd, but that's so chic and cool right now that it's a total non-issue. Nerd is the new jock, BTW. (Ew, I wouldn't eat anything called a jock, FYI, so don't get any ideas.) I have, however, been called "Butterfingers", and I don't need my dessert to remind me of that, or point out any flaws in my motor skills. On top of being a name-caller, Butterfingers are also pretty gross. They are not my thing. If they are your thing, fine, I'm sure there is something I like that you find gross... asparagus, anyone?!
It's a mixed blessing, I suppose, that my kid's little plastic pumpkin is full of these mean, gross candies I won't eat. At least they will never make it to my hips... But it is a little sad that I can't really join in the tradition of parents stealing their kids Halloween candy while they are fast asleep, dreaming about how wonderful their parents are and how they would never do something like steal from their own kids....
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Knock knock jokes with a hint of penis....
Caution: Could be considered vulgar, but important to the story, and over-all funny so had to keep the original joke intact.
My son loves jokes. If he hears people laughing, he will crack up, too. He so wants to be in on the joke. He used to just blurt out things like "French fries! Get it?! A joke!" like some little mad-libs Tourette's patient who shouts out random nouns. We thought it would be fun to teach him some knock knock jokes. Some easy to learn, easy to repeat, good ol' fashioned knock knock jokes. We started with the "Boo... Boo who?" joke, and moved onto "Olive... Olive who?... Olive YOU!" He got so good at those, we decided it was time to add to his repertoire.
We added "Dwayne... Dwayne who?... Dwayne the bathtub, I'm dwowning.", and "Yodle-ay-hee... Yodle-ay-hee who?", and the good old Banana one that goes on forever until you say orange. All great. All perfect. He was becoming a regular comedian. I told him he should tell some to his friends at school. I gave him one more... "Knock knock?" "Who's there?" "Cock-a-doodle." "Cock-a-doodle who?" hee hee "Cock-a-doodle whooooooo!" He roared with laughter, and then did the joke back to me. Everything was fun, innocent, happy times. Until about 5 minutes later.
My husband sat down at the table with us for lunch, and my son comes out with this little exchange
Him Knock knock.
Me Who's there?
Him Cock.
Me *not sure where to go from here...* Cock who?
Him Just cock.
At this point, my husband nearly falls out of his chair, and slithers away with his lunch to his office in our basement. He won't make eye contact with either of us. He just leaves me there. At least he didn't follow it up with a "That's what she said" or something else that would've really made me fall apart. But I held back the urge to laugh at this major faux pas. Part of the reason I stayed so together was the fear creeping in. The fear that my kid was going to take my advice to share his jokes with his class, and go straight for the cock joke.
I thought for a second, then repeated the joke and said "Was that what you were trying to say? You missed the best part, the 'a-doodle-who!'" He went right back to his blurting out random things and yelling "Get it?! A joke!", and seemed to forget about the new, lewd, knock knock joke. I'm sure it'll all come back to him during school when they ask for the news of the day. He'll come out with "Mommy told me a joke...." Ugh, I'm already dying of mortification.
My son loves jokes. If he hears people laughing, he will crack up, too. He so wants to be in on the joke. He used to just blurt out things like "French fries! Get it?! A joke!" like some little mad-libs Tourette's patient who shouts out random nouns. We thought it would be fun to teach him some knock knock jokes. Some easy to learn, easy to repeat, good ol' fashioned knock knock jokes. We started with the "Boo... Boo who?" joke, and moved onto "Olive... Olive who?... Olive YOU!" He got so good at those, we decided it was time to add to his repertoire.
We added "Dwayne... Dwayne who?... Dwayne the bathtub, I'm dwowning.", and "Yodle-ay-hee... Yodle-ay-hee who?", and the good old Banana one that goes on forever until you say orange. All great. All perfect. He was becoming a regular comedian. I told him he should tell some to his friends at school. I gave him one more... "Knock knock?" "Who's there?" "Cock-a-doodle." "Cock-a-doodle who?" hee hee "Cock-a-doodle whooooooo!" He roared with laughter, and then did the joke back to me. Everything was fun, innocent, happy times. Until about 5 minutes later.
My husband sat down at the table with us for lunch, and my son comes out with this little exchange
Him Knock knock.
Me Who's there?
Him Cock.
Me *not sure where to go from here...* Cock who?
Him Just cock.
At this point, my husband nearly falls out of his chair, and slithers away with his lunch to his office in our basement. He won't make eye contact with either of us. He just leaves me there. At least he didn't follow it up with a "That's what she said" or something else that would've really made me fall apart. But I held back the urge to laugh at this major faux pas. Part of the reason I stayed so together was the fear creeping in. The fear that my kid was going to take my advice to share his jokes with his class, and go straight for the cock joke.
I thought for a second, then repeated the joke and said "Was that what you were trying to say? You missed the best part, the 'a-doodle-who!'" He went right back to his blurting out random things and yelling "Get it?! A joke!", and seemed to forget about the new, lewd, knock knock joke. I'm sure it'll all come back to him during school when they ask for the news of the day. He'll come out with "Mommy told me a joke...." Ugh, I'm already dying of mortification.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Demystifying the blanket
It's that time of year when my family all starts making their wish lists for birthdays and the holidays. I am having a little trouble coming up with ideas for things I want, but I do know exactly what I don't want.
Anything that says "Using a blanket has become too mind boggling and difficult for me", will not be making my list. This means you, "Snuggie", and also you, "Forever Lazy". I mean, come the hell on. Every commercial I see for these things show people fighting with blankets, as if the idea of simply laying soft, warm fabric over your body to stay warm has become downright perplexing. Blankets, and their flat, often rectangular shape are just too hard to master. Who has time to figure out the proper application of a blanket, and then to execute the act of placing it on the cold section of their body with enough precision and timing to get enough of the over-sized death trap just where they need it to be to get warm? Forget putting on sweat suits, they are 2 separate pieces! What a hassle. You have to choose which half of that outfit to put on first, and that decision can be more overwhelming than one human being may be able to handle on their own.
I also can't get over the commercial scenes where they are wearing these abominations in public. Nothing quite says "I've completely given up on life" like wearing part of your bed out into public. At that point, why bother getting out of bed at all? Heck, the Forever Lazy even has a "trap door" so you might as well not go through the trouble of getting out of bed, and mingling amongst the living. Just keep a bed pan next to you, and you're good to go... or stay really.
While I still understand the complexities of using a blanket, the mind boggling method for putting on a robe, and how to operate my heater... oh and mostly while I still have some self respect... I will be avoiding anything that turns any seat into your bed, or let's you feel like you haven't left bed yet while you take your 4th pee of the day, or says "casual friday?! let me go down to Bed Bath and Beyond to see what ugly bed linens I can wrap around my body in a "function meets fashion" type of way.
I know the ease of these products, and the "one size fits all, and that size is 3 ring circus tent" could be appealing, but that kind of comfort is for indoors only... and those doors really need to be your own doors. Friends don't let friends wear sleeping bags with arm holes and leg holes in any public place.
Anything that says "Using a blanket has become too mind boggling and difficult for me", will not be making my list. This means you, "Snuggie", and also you, "Forever Lazy". I mean, come the hell on. Every commercial I see for these things show people fighting with blankets, as if the idea of simply laying soft, warm fabric over your body to stay warm has become downright perplexing. Blankets, and their flat, often rectangular shape are just too hard to master. Who has time to figure out the proper application of a blanket, and then to execute the act of placing it on the cold section of their body with enough precision and timing to get enough of the over-sized death trap just where they need it to be to get warm? Forget putting on sweat suits, they are 2 separate pieces! What a hassle. You have to choose which half of that outfit to put on first, and that decision can be more overwhelming than one human being may be able to handle on their own.
I also can't get over the commercial scenes where they are wearing these abominations in public. Nothing quite says "I've completely given up on life" like wearing part of your bed out into public. At that point, why bother getting out of bed at all? Heck, the Forever Lazy even has a "trap door" so you might as well not go through the trouble of getting out of bed, and mingling amongst the living. Just keep a bed pan next to you, and you're good to go... or stay really.
While I still understand the complexities of using a blanket, the mind boggling method for putting on a robe, and how to operate my heater... oh and mostly while I still have some self respect... I will be avoiding anything that turns any seat into your bed, or let's you feel like you haven't left bed yet while you take your 4th pee of the day, or says "casual friday?! let me go down to Bed Bath and Beyond to see what ugly bed linens I can wrap around my body in a "function meets fashion" type of way.
I know the ease of these products, and the "one size fits all, and that size is 3 ring circus tent" could be appealing, but that kind of comfort is for indoors only... and those doors really need to be your own doors. Friends don't let friends wear sleeping bags with arm holes and leg holes in any public place.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Ask and you shall receive... unless it's from a jackass security guard not doing his job...
Yesterday, my sister pointed out that Tim Gunn would be at a (kinda not really) local mall. I immediately said we should go! (If you will, refer to my previous blog post I am a 58 year old man . ) The event was a Lucky Brand fashion show, and Tim Gunn was co-host. There also was a Q&A session, and it was followed by an after party, where your ticket was your receipt for a $100 dollar purchase (or greater) from the store. In the "party" you'd meet Tim, he'd sign a personalized autograph for you in his book, you'd get the book, a picture with him, champagne, food... etc... So, we showed up the moment the mall opened, and we were the 3rd little "couple" in line. We made our purchase, and when they opened the seating area, we sat 2nd row, directly up at the front part of the stage. We had fantastic seats. (Front row was reserved for employees and VIPs (mostly people who helped with the show). Waiting didn't suck, we had fun people around us, and we just went with the flow. The show was fun. Tim was great. We got lots of helpful fashion advice. The Q&A was also fun. I admit, I do not watch his show. I read his book and became a fan of the man himself, as a human being, not whoever everyone sees on tv. It's like a good movie based on a book, read the book first! That's where the good stuff is.
Well, we thought we were set, we arrived early, had great seats... then after the show they wanted to tear down the seats and set up some tables and it was just a huge crowd of total chaos. Where they originally told us to go, well that wasn't right, then they herded us somewhere else, and somewhere else again, put up ropes, moved those a million times, then started at the front of the line, and asked people to back up. Hey, genius, back up where? Start at the back of the friggin line where people actually have a place to back up to! I can't back up into another human being... it's not physically possible. I am NOT the only person, apparently, who pointed this out to him. Everyone was agitated, and upset over losing their spot or how folks who just got there were in the front somehow, and we had been there for hours along with a bunch of other people. It was a mad house.
Finally, there was at least some organization developing. Then some ignorant woman keeps trying to sweet talk people into letting her teenage daughter cut in line. People keep turning her down, and then I took a moment to tell her how ignorant and rude she was, (she had been harassing the young woman in front of me for quite some time, trying to shove her daughter in front of her) we had all been waiting. Get to the back of the line. So, everyone notices her sweet talking some security guard, who lets her kid in. So I spoke to him, trying to get him to make her leave, he said "I saw nothing!" in the most smart-assed tone with the matching smirk. I did notice, after I spoke to Tim Gunn's assistant, who happened to be coming around, and I pointed out that Tim would NOT have that since he's all about good manners... that security guard was taken off "line duty". He saw nothing. Wonder if he saw his job the next morning? Tim should add that rule to his book "Don't further piss off a hot, thirsty, tired, mob of folks who have already been jerked around enough."
Luckily, all that didn't matter as we got close to the stage again, this time to meet Tim. He was kind, gracious, and friendly. Exactly who you would expect him to be after reading his book (or watching him on the show). He said in his book that he doesn't just critique people's outfits, unless they ask. He also says he can't lie. So, I thought I could use my moment with him to get some good, quality honest feedback from someone who knows fashion. I asked him what he had to tell me about my fashion choices for the day. After saying "What? You?!" like he was surprised I was even worried about it "You look fabulous! You're beautiful, I love this little bit of sparkle, the fit, and the proportion of your outfit! You're fabulous." So, me and my big fat head left with a big fat smile on my face.
It was a fun adventure with my sister. We had a good time, we made it through the hours of standing in an angry mob, and we got some fantastic pictures. I don't often post pictures on here, as this is (mostly, save for a few of you) anonymous blog, but this time I'll break the rules.
Well, we thought we were set, we arrived early, had great seats... then after the show they wanted to tear down the seats and set up some tables and it was just a huge crowd of total chaos. Where they originally told us to go, well that wasn't right, then they herded us somewhere else, and somewhere else again, put up ropes, moved those a million times, then started at the front of the line, and asked people to back up. Hey, genius, back up where? Start at the back of the friggin line where people actually have a place to back up to! I can't back up into another human being... it's not physically possible. I am NOT the only person, apparently, who pointed this out to him. Everyone was agitated, and upset over losing their spot or how folks who just got there were in the front somehow, and we had been there for hours along with a bunch of other people. It was a mad house.
Finally, there was at least some organization developing. Then some ignorant woman keeps trying to sweet talk people into letting her teenage daughter cut in line. People keep turning her down, and then I took a moment to tell her how ignorant and rude she was, (she had been harassing the young woman in front of me for quite some time, trying to shove her daughter in front of her) we had all been waiting. Get to the back of the line. So, everyone notices her sweet talking some security guard, who lets her kid in. So I spoke to him, trying to get him to make her leave, he said "I saw nothing!" in the most smart-assed tone with the matching smirk. I did notice, after I spoke to Tim Gunn's assistant, who happened to be coming around, and I pointed out that Tim would NOT have that since he's all about good manners... that security guard was taken off "line duty". He saw nothing. Wonder if he saw his job the next morning? Tim should add that rule to his book "Don't further piss off a hot, thirsty, tired, mob of folks who have already been jerked around enough."
Luckily, all that didn't matter as we got close to the stage again, this time to meet Tim. He was kind, gracious, and friendly. Exactly who you would expect him to be after reading his book (or watching him on the show). He said in his book that he doesn't just critique people's outfits, unless they ask. He also says he can't lie. So, I thought I could use my moment with him to get some good, quality honest feedback from someone who knows fashion. I asked him what he had to tell me about my fashion choices for the day. After saying "What? You?!" like he was surprised I was even worried about it "You look fabulous! You're beautiful, I love this little bit of sparkle, the fit, and the proportion of your outfit! You're fabulous." So, me and my big fat head left with a big fat smile on my face.
It was a fun adventure with my sister. We had a good time, we made it through the hours of standing in an angry mob, and we got some fantastic pictures. I don't often post pictures on here, as this is (mostly, save for a few of you) anonymous blog, but this time I'll break the rules.
Here we are, just after our professional picture...
And here we are chatting as he signs my copy of his book.
Class act, that man. Class act.
Friday, November 4, 2011
Friday night excitement... try not to be jealous
I thought I'd do something nice and paint my finger nails, as I am attending a fashion show tomorrow. Well, of course, we all know I cannot have nice things. Mostly this is because any of the 3 boys in this house destroy everything pretty in their wake, but tonight it wasn't actually their fault... well read for yourself...
Me I just painted my nails! Yay! (long pause) I really super have to pee. Booooooo!
(staring at my husband)
Him *finishes laughing at me* Wait, why are you looking at me like I can help you? For, I assure you, I cannot. Not at all. In any way.
Me No! I'm just brainstorming.
Him Yeah, I know, I can hear it.
Me Nice. So helpful. Sooooooo helpful.
Me I just painted my nails! Yay! (long pause) I really super have to pee. Booooooo!
(staring at my husband)
Him *finishes laughing at me* Wait, why are you looking at me like I can help you? For, I assure you, I cannot. Not at all. In any way.
Me No! I'm just brainstorming.
Him Yeah, I know, I can hear it.
Me Nice. So helpful. Sooooooo helpful.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Stewed tomatoes make me gag, and NASCAR is, well NASCAR
Lately everyone is talking about Kim Kardashian's divorce. You know, the one that she filed for almost immediately after leaving the church or something... Anywho... some of us have come out of the closet on Facebook to admit that we do not give a fuck about it. All the endless updates and speculation. Who cares?! I have never, not even for a millisecond, cared about the Kardashians. They are completely irrelevant to me. I know, gasp. I was chatting with a friend about this, yeah you, B, and asked him if he knew what I cared about more than KK... the answer? Everything! Now, that was a pretty rash answer, so I thought about it for more than a minute, and just with the quick list of things I really hate but are somehow more important to me than the state of her union, I'm pretty sure my answer was right. Here's just a few examples of things I really do not care if they disappear, yet still place higher than the dissolution of this pseudo-celebrity's marriage...
1. Stewed tomatoes. I hate these things. Ask my mother, they make me gag something fierce. I would rather sit in a dark dining room, long after everyone was finished eating, than put them in my mouth. However, if I was cooking for a sick friend or a stressed friend who really loved them, I'd suck it up and find the best recipe out there and cook some up. No problem. I just wouldn't let my other food touch that food.
2. NASCAR. Just in case it is not obvious, I am not a NASCAR girl. I mean, if I wanted to see a car go around in circles for hours, I'd just go out without my GPS. However, my son loves the movie "Cars", and I think more than a little inspiration for that cute little movie came from NASCAR, so I do appreciate it in that respect.
3. Pajama pants and crocs worn out in inappropriate public places. Now, PJ pants and crocs are not all bad. They have their place, and they are fantastic when the time is right. Muddy garden? Crocs please! Chillin' on my couch? Pass the PJ pants. :) However, when I'm out at the market trying to pick out an avocado, I don't want to feel like I interrupted your nap time. If I'm dining at an establishment where the place settings include two or more forks, I do not appreciate plastic foam footwear. Time and place, people! Time. and. place.
4. Justin Bieber. I do not get this craze, at all... BUT the nearby teenage girls stop shrieking and talking in those valley girl/mean girl voices to listen in blissful silence to that kid. That is nearly a miracle.
So, you see, just from this small list, it's rather obvious that someone's relationship status (especially someone who is really famous for next to nothing), is none of my concern. Everyone can stop with the updates and the speculation. No one cares, at least no one should. Yes, it's ridiculous, but it's not news and it certainly is not important. Did anyone notice that at least 29 people totally died from that freak pre-Halloween snow?! Probably not. Kim Kardashian's divorced butt was in the way.
1. Stewed tomatoes. I hate these things. Ask my mother, they make me gag something fierce. I would rather sit in a dark dining room, long after everyone was finished eating, than put them in my mouth. However, if I was cooking for a sick friend or a stressed friend who really loved them, I'd suck it up and find the best recipe out there and cook some up. No problem. I just wouldn't let my other food touch that food.
2. NASCAR. Just in case it is not obvious, I am not a NASCAR girl. I mean, if I wanted to see a car go around in circles for hours, I'd just go out without my GPS. However, my son loves the movie "Cars", and I think more than a little inspiration for that cute little movie came from NASCAR, so I do appreciate it in that respect.
3. Pajama pants and crocs worn out in inappropriate public places. Now, PJ pants and crocs are not all bad. They have their place, and they are fantastic when the time is right. Muddy garden? Crocs please! Chillin' on my couch? Pass the PJ pants. :) However, when I'm out at the market trying to pick out an avocado, I don't want to feel like I interrupted your nap time. If I'm dining at an establishment where the place settings include two or more forks, I do not appreciate plastic foam footwear. Time and place, people! Time. and. place.
4. Justin Bieber. I do not get this craze, at all... BUT the nearby teenage girls stop shrieking and talking in those valley girl/mean girl voices to listen in blissful silence to that kid. That is nearly a miracle.
So, you see, just from this small list, it's rather obvious that someone's relationship status (especially someone who is really famous for next to nothing), is none of my concern. Everyone can stop with the updates and the speculation. No one cares, at least no one should. Yes, it's ridiculous, but it's not news and it certainly is not important. Did anyone notice that at least 29 people totally died from that freak pre-Halloween snow?! Probably not. Kim Kardashian's divorced butt was in the way.
It's the sweet little things...
After more than 11 years together, my husband and I still write little love notes. :) Just keepin' the romance alive!
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