I received this via email this morning and I thought it was too cute to just sit in my inbox!
Dear All,
My heartfelt appreciation goes out to all of you who have taken the time
and trouble to send me "forwards" over the past 12 months. Thank you
for making me feel safe, secure, blessed and Healthy.
Extra thanks to whoever sent me the email about rat crap in the glue on
envelopes - cause I now have to go get a wet towel every time I need to
seal an envelope.
Also, I scrub the top of every can I open for the same reason.
Because of your genuine concern, I no longer drink Coca Cola because I
know it can remove toilet stains, which is not exactly an appealing
characteristic.
I no longer check the coin return on pay phones because I could be
pricked with a needle infected with AIDS.
I no longer use cancer-causing deodorants even though I smell like a
water buffalo on a hot day.
I no longer go to shopping centres because someone might drug me with
a perfume sample and rob me.
I no longer eat KFC because their "chickens" are actually horrible
mutant freaks with no eyes or feathers.
I no longer worry about my soul because at last count, I have 363,214
angels looking out for me.
Thanks to you, I have learned that God only answers my prayers if I
forward an e-mail to seven of my friends and make a wish within five
minutes.
I no longer have any savings because I gave it to a sick girl on the
internet who is about to die in the hospital (for the 1,387,258th
time).
I no longer have any money at all in fact - but that will change once I
receive the $15,000 that Microsoft and AOL are sending me for
participating in their special on-line email program.
Yes, I want to thank you all so much for looking out for me that I will
now return the favour! If you don't send this e-mail to at least
144,000 people in the next 7 minutes, a large pigeon with a wicked case
of diarrhea will land on your head at 5:00 PM (GMT) this afternoon. I
know this will occur because it actually happened to a friend of my
next door neighbor's ex-mother-in-law's second husband's cousin's beautician.
Merry Christmas & Happy New Year
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Monday, September 11, 2006
Patricia A. Massari, age 25
Dear Patricia -
Today is the 5th anniversary of the day you were taken from this world too quickly. There are no words that can justify or explain your death, only sadness at what should have been.
You should have been able to finish the conversation with your husband about the baby you were going to have. You should have had time to hold a newborn in your arms and revel in the sheer joy of him/her. You should have had time to tell those you loved that you loved them - even if for the last time.
You should have had time to live...
I never knew you, but your picture makes me think of you as a someone with a ready smile, who could light up a room, simply by walking in to it. I also think of you as someone who not only gave great love, but that you also had it in return.
Today as I stand at the memorial service that is planned in honor of you, and the others that perished with you, I will think of you. I want you to know that contributing to this project has forever changed my life. In this sense, I want you to know that you did not die in vain. Writing to you and about you has made me realize that we all live on borrowed time. I cherish now, every moment I have with my children, all the while knowing that this is something that you were denied. I cherish my husband and let him know every day how much I love him - something I imagine you did as well, but this too, was taken from you. Your life has touched mine - and reshaped it so that I do not take for granted any of the things you and your family have been robbed of.
I thank you for bringing this change into my life.
Your family and friends who mourn and remember you now have suffered a tremendous loss. Your life was of an immeasurable importance. You cannot be replaced, and you will not be forgotten.
Patricia A. Massari, aged 25 of Glendale, NY was taken from the world on September 11, 2001.
The morning of her death, she had discovered that she and her husband of two years, Louis, would be expecting their first child together. After a bit of discussion and excitement, she left for her job as a capital analyst for Marsh & McLennan on the 98th floor of Tower One. That was the last time her husband saw her. He was on the phone with her when the first plane hit the tower, and heard her last words.
Remember Patricia…
if not for the fact that she died in the attacks of September 11, then for the fact that she will never be able to know the joys of raising her child with the husband that she loves. What was taken from her is something the rest of us are fortunate to have, but seldom give thanks for it.
She was a mother (to-be), she was one of us.
This tribute is part of the 2,996 Project. Please take some time to view the tributes to the other victims of 9/11.
Information for this tribute was found at: http://memorial.mmc.com/pgBio.asp?ID=174.
Today is the 5th anniversary of the day you were taken from this world too quickly. There are no words that can justify or explain your death, only sadness at what should have been.
You should have been able to finish the conversation with your husband about the baby you were going to have. You should have had time to hold a newborn in your arms and revel in the sheer joy of him/her. You should have had time to tell those you loved that you loved them - even if for the last time.
You should have had time to live...
I never knew you, but your picture makes me think of you as a someone with a ready smile, who could light up a room, simply by walking in to it. I also think of you as someone who not only gave great love, but that you also had it in return.
Today as I stand at the memorial service that is planned in honor of you, and the others that perished with you, I will think of you. I want you to know that contributing to this project has forever changed my life. In this sense, I want you to know that you did not die in vain. Writing to you and about you has made me realize that we all live on borrowed time. I cherish now, every moment I have with my children, all the while knowing that this is something that you were denied. I cherish my husband and let him know every day how much I love him - something I imagine you did as well, but this too, was taken from you. Your life has touched mine - and reshaped it so that I do not take for granted any of the things you and your family have been robbed of.
I thank you for bringing this change into my life.
Your family and friends who mourn and remember you now have suffered a tremendous loss. Your life was of an immeasurable importance. You cannot be replaced, and you will not be forgotten.
Patricia A. Massari, aged 25 of Glendale, NY was taken from the world on September 11, 2001.
The morning of her death, she had discovered that she and her husband of two years, Louis, would be expecting their first child together. After a bit of discussion and excitement, she left for her job as a capital analyst for Marsh & McLennan on the 98th floor of Tower One. That was the last time her husband saw her. He was on the phone with her when the first plane hit the tower, and heard her last words.
Remember Patricia…
if not for the fact that she died in the attacks of September 11, then for the fact that she will never be able to know the joys of raising her child with the husband that she loves. What was taken from her is something the rest of us are fortunate to have, but seldom give thanks for it.
She was a mother (to-be), she was one of us.
This tribute is part of the 2,996 Project. Please take some time to view the tributes to the other victims of 9/11.
Information for this tribute was found at: http://memorial.mmc.com/pgBio.asp?ID=174.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
The Most Wonderful Time....
So now that Staples has weaned me from their annoying commercials with the parents with the Easy Buttons that magically deliver all school supplies with one push, I have one thing to say...
I get it now.
I totally get it. I've seen these commercials 80,000 times or more, and I'd always just think it was because the parents liked back to school shopping as much as I did (I always smuggle in some new pens or some other organizational tool thingy with the kids' gear). This year, I know I'm wrong. This year I've actually spent an entire summer with my kids. I now know that the Staples commercials are really geared towards the parents who seriously cannot wait to send their kids back to school.
Perhaps it was the time my kids decided to have a HUGE fight over who got to push the buttons on the elevator? Or maybe it was the time they rode the skateboard down the driveway just far enough to jump off and watch it roll down into the road before it was demolished by a car? Nah, it had to be the time my son took a brand new bottle of soda, shook it up, and then opened it in my brand new car? Who knows...I am fairly certain that I am looking insanity directly in the eyes at this point.
It's sad to say, but I need them to go back to school. I really do. I loved the first part of my very first summer home with them, but it's time for them to go back and join the ranks of their fellow students. Definitely soon; definitely before they come up with some new ingenious plan - whether it be buffing the scratches out of the side of my car with a brillo pad because they like to "help", or just cleaning up by using bleach cleaner on my wood furniture...
I get it now.
I totally get it. I've seen these commercials 80,000 times or more, and I'd always just think it was because the parents liked back to school shopping as much as I did (I always smuggle in some new pens or some other organizational tool thingy with the kids' gear). This year, I know I'm wrong. This year I've actually spent an entire summer with my kids. I now know that the Staples commercials are really geared towards the parents who seriously cannot wait to send their kids back to school.
Perhaps it was the time my kids decided to have a HUGE fight over who got to push the buttons on the elevator? Or maybe it was the time they rode the skateboard down the driveway just far enough to jump off and watch it roll down into the road before it was demolished by a car? Nah, it had to be the time my son took a brand new bottle of soda, shook it up, and then opened it in my brand new car? Who knows...I am fairly certain that I am looking insanity directly in the eyes at this point.
It's sad to say, but I need them to go back to school. I really do. I loved the first part of my very first summer home with them, but it's time for them to go back and join the ranks of their fellow students. Definitely soon; definitely before they come up with some new ingenious plan - whether it be buffing the scratches out of the side of my car with a brillo pad because they like to "help", or just cleaning up by using bleach cleaner on my wood furniture...
To Crazy Lady in Vegas...
I tried to leave a comment on your "Coming Out" post, but blogger kinda f'd it all up and so now I'm left with no other option...
I'm outing you on my blog, so my other two readers will then go to your site and see what the hell I'm talking about! (CLICK HERE TWO FAITHFUL READERS: Crazy Lady's Coming Out!)
All I wanted to say was "nice to meet you"... sigh....
My work for tonight is done.
I'm outing you on my blog, so my other two readers will then go to your site and see what the hell I'm talking about! (CLICK HERE TWO FAITHFUL READERS: Crazy Lady's Coming Out!)
All I wanted to say was "nice to meet you"... sigh....
My work for tonight is done.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
I ROCKED out Y'all!
Hubby took me to a Goo Goo Dolls / Counting Crows concert Monday night. We had VIP passes, and one of the women my hubby works with got us backstage to meet the Goo Goo Dolls themselves!!!
Here's my proof...
I'll admit, when I first started sending this picture out to my friends, I jokingly put in the email that Johnny Resnick was patting my behind. That was until my hubby looked and said, "you know...looking at that picture it could look like he was!" Now I don't say that anymore for fear of causing Johnny Resnick (who IS so much hotter in person that you could fry eggs on his tight little belly) unneccessary nightmares from the mere thought that he may have touched moi inappropriately. I'll just settle with the evidence that I, a mama wannabe, got to meet someone famous and was close enough to smell him, and close enough to THINK for a moment, about licking him.
Here's my proof...
I'll admit, when I first started sending this picture out to my friends, I jokingly put in the email that Johnny Resnick was patting my behind. That was until my hubby looked and said, "you know...looking at that picture it could look like he was!" Now I don't say that anymore for fear of causing Johnny Resnick (who IS so much hotter in person that you could fry eggs on his tight little belly) unneccessary nightmares from the mere thought that he may have touched moi inappropriately. I'll just settle with the evidence that I, a mama wannabe, got to meet someone famous and was close enough to smell him, and close enough to THINK for a moment, about licking him.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
What I've Learned While Staying Home
Here are some things I've discovered these past few months in my transformation from mundane 9-to-fiver into the fabulous undomestic goddess wannabe I currently am:
1. There actually is a limit to the number of times you can serve your children macaroni and cheese and frozen chicken nuggets. Even if the macaroni and cheese is Kraft.
2. Your house smells a lot better when you clean the toilets regularly as opposed to "when they look like they need it".
3. Soccer Moms do exist. Soccer Moms come in various shapes and sizes and some of them were planted here straight off the set of "Stepford Wives" in order to make newbie stay-at-home-moms feel even more inferior than they already felt.
4. It is impossible for a stay-at-home-mom to sleep in. Sleep is a naughty 5 letter word that SAHM's apparently aren't allowed to use, mumble, or otherwise act upon....AT ALL.
5. It's true that when you stay home, your house sometimes turns into a daycare. Complete with unruly children with very bad attitudes and haircuts to match.
6. It's also true that the arrival of the new "daycare kids" coincides with the amazing disappearance act of every stitch of food in your pantry.
7. It can also be said that other people's children can drive you to the brink of insanity. Which, honestly, makes it hard for you to drive ANYWHERE with these other people because you are feeling this intense need to "drive" them where their children have taken you. (NOTE: In these situations, it's best to keep both hands at your sides; refrain from grabbing the steering wheel).
8. The demand for late night activities with ones husband increases. This happens because the husband inevitably feels that since you are at home now, you are more relaxed (ie - you don't really do ALL that much during the day now, do you?). When you are more relaxed, you probably find your husband more attractive. I'm going to liken this phenomenon to chain vomiting. You know, one person throws up, another sees them and throws up, and it just goes on and on and on.
9. There are books to help those who cannot seem to run a house as efficiently as June Cleaver. Seriously, there are books!!!
10. There are also books on how to cook, yet another area of domesticity I haven't mastered, unless you count my unrivaled mastery of cooking Kraft Macaroni and Cheese while simultaneously baking cheesy chicken nuggets in the oven. Oh yeah, I make mean cereal too.
11. When you buy a minivan because you need to have more room to chauffeur around your own two kids and two dogs, apparently, this tells the world that you have room for their kids too. You've now become a bus driver without the ability to charge any money at all for the ride, and without the swanky drivers cap.
12. It is impossible to give up the vision of being a perfect mom when you stay home. Even after finding out that the perfect mom down the street attends swingers conventions and goes by the screen name "ScreaminGenie", you still hold tight to the dream of everyone on the face of the earth marveling at what a wonderful job you've done raising your kids, and, "Oh my! LOOK at how clean her house is!" Yeah, that's so not happening here...but, there's always tomorrow :)
1. There actually is a limit to the number of times you can serve your children macaroni and cheese and frozen chicken nuggets. Even if the macaroni and cheese is Kraft.
2. Your house smells a lot better when you clean the toilets regularly as opposed to "when they look like they need it".
3. Soccer Moms do exist. Soccer Moms come in various shapes and sizes and some of them were planted here straight off the set of "Stepford Wives" in order to make newbie stay-at-home-moms feel even more inferior than they already felt.
4. It is impossible for a stay-at-home-mom to sleep in. Sleep is a naughty 5 letter word that SAHM's apparently aren't allowed to use, mumble, or otherwise act upon....AT ALL.
5. It's true that when you stay home, your house sometimes turns into a daycare. Complete with unruly children with very bad attitudes and haircuts to match.
6. It's also true that the arrival of the new "daycare kids" coincides with the amazing disappearance act of every stitch of food in your pantry.
7. It can also be said that other people's children can drive you to the brink of insanity. Which, honestly, makes it hard for you to drive ANYWHERE with these other people because you are feeling this intense need to "drive" them where their children have taken you. (NOTE: In these situations, it's best to keep both hands at your sides; refrain from grabbing the steering wheel).
8. The demand for late night activities with ones husband increases. This happens because the husband inevitably feels that since you are at home now, you are more relaxed (ie - you don't really do ALL that much during the day now, do you?). When you are more relaxed, you probably find your husband more attractive. I'm going to liken this phenomenon to chain vomiting. You know, one person throws up, another sees them and throws up, and it just goes on and on and on.
9. There are books to help those who cannot seem to run a house as efficiently as June Cleaver. Seriously, there are books!!!
10. There are also books on how to cook, yet another area of domesticity I haven't mastered, unless you count my unrivaled mastery of cooking Kraft Macaroni and Cheese while simultaneously baking cheesy chicken nuggets in the oven. Oh yeah, I make mean cereal too.
11. When you buy a minivan because you need to have more room to chauffeur around your own two kids and two dogs, apparently, this tells the world that you have room for their kids too. You've now become a bus driver without the ability to charge any money at all for the ride, and without the swanky drivers cap.
12. It is impossible to give up the vision of being a perfect mom when you stay home. Even after finding out that the perfect mom down the street attends swingers conventions and goes by the screen name "ScreaminGenie", you still hold tight to the dream of everyone on the face of the earth marveling at what a wonderful job you've done raising your kids, and, "Oh my! LOOK at how clean her house is!" Yeah, that's so not happening here...but, there's always tomorrow :)
Monday, July 10, 2006
okay, so now I'm REALLY back!!!
I've missed my bloggy friends :) Just a quick update, we moved to a new house - though our old one hasn't sold yet (crap). We took a week to settle in, and had some major problems with internet and phone that are hopefully fixed now. We will see though. I will post about the triumphs and tragedies that occur when one moves soon. For now, I would like to make a simple request that we all lend a small round of applause to Metrocast for finally getting us hooked up again.
Apparently, the new house had old connectors on the coaxial cable that schmeared our signal all to crap and made it so I couldn't even take a peek at everyone's blogs to see what they've been up to. The connection would be fine, and then I would start to think about visiting one of y'all, and it was like the grand internet barfed all over me then rolled over to take a nap without so much as an "I love you". I've been in hell everyone, and I've made it back to share the story. I've got loads to share - "How NOT to fill out too many Change of Address Forms (a.k.a - How NOT to get ANY mail - Even VERY Important Checks)", "How to Lose a Dog at a New House - Errr...Scratch that...TWO FRICKEN' DOGS", and my personal favorite "How Moving Companies Make All That Cash, 'Cuz Honestly, They're Loaded After What They Charged Us".
I've a feeling I've lost some of you along the way, so here's my apology for going MIA during a critical season of Mommydom - summer break. I miss you all and hope that I will hear from you soon!!!!
So, fill me in on what's new...leave some comments!!!! Please!!!!
Apparently, the new house had old connectors on the coaxial cable that schmeared our signal all to crap and made it so I couldn't even take a peek at everyone's blogs to see what they've been up to. The connection would be fine, and then I would start to think about visiting one of y'all, and it was like the grand internet barfed all over me then rolled over to take a nap without so much as an "I love you". I've been in hell everyone, and I've made it back to share the story. I've got loads to share - "How NOT to fill out too many Change of Address Forms (a.k.a - How NOT to get ANY mail - Even VERY Important Checks)", "How to Lose a Dog at a New House - Errr...Scratch that...TWO FRICKEN' DOGS", and my personal favorite "How Moving Companies Make All That Cash, 'Cuz Honestly, They're Loaded After What They Charged Us".
I've a feeling I've lost some of you along the way, so here's my apology for going MIA during a critical season of Mommydom - summer break. I miss you all and hope that I will hear from you soon!!!!
So, fill me in on what's new...leave some comments!!!! Please!!!!
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Just got back...
I've been busy, and I've been gone...sorry friends :)
We just got back from Niagara Falls on Monday, and I've been going, going, going ever since we got back. I'll write more and post some pictures later - if y'all are interested!
We just got back from Niagara Falls on Monday, and I've been going, going, going ever since we got back. I'll write more and post some pictures later - if y'all are interested!
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Noah wuz here...
and frankly, he was a little miffed that trucks didn't stop for him like this -
So he put up a sign to make sure EVERYONE knew he was here -
Meanwhile, Satan was getting tired of listening to the masses trample on the ground above his head, straining to get a look at the damn dam that was going to burst, so he installed a direct pathway to hell.
Because hey, if you aren't on the Ark, you're quite obviously late for your appointment in H-E-double hockeysticks.
**Yes, these are actual pictures taken today. The first one was a guy that tried to drive across a road that was clearly posted as closed. The second one, I took on my way to Dover this morning, and the third one I took because I was told that a billion people were standing there yesterday, taking pictures of the dam because it was so close to bursting (it didn't). They were actually taking pictures of their kids in that very spot because something like this only happens once a century. They crawled through the BRIGHT YELLOW "DO NOT CROSS" TAPE to take their pictures! Today, there was a lovely sinkhole where they had been. They are lucky that they didn't fall through yesterday!
So he put up a sign to make sure EVERYONE knew he was here -
Meanwhile, Satan was getting tired of listening to the masses trample on the ground above his head, straining to get a look at the damn dam that was going to burst, so he installed a direct pathway to hell.
Because hey, if you aren't on the Ark, you're quite obviously late for your appointment in H-E-double hockeysticks.
**Yes, these are actual pictures taken today. The first one was a guy that tried to drive across a road that was clearly posted as closed. The second one, I took on my way to Dover this morning, and the third one I took because I was told that a billion people were standing there yesterday, taking pictures of the dam because it was so close to bursting (it didn't). They were actually taking pictures of their kids in that very spot because something like this only happens once a century. They crawled through the BRIGHT YELLOW "DO NOT CROSS" TAPE to take their pictures! Today, there was a lovely sinkhole where they had been. They are lucky that they didn't fall through yesterday!
Apparently, I'm an ANGRY mom...
This is the card I received for Mother's Day from my daughter. While I appreciated all the time she took coloring, I was alarmed at the words that the creative process that is making a mother's day card for your mom at school, churned out.
Take a look -
Here's the breakdown:
Left Side -
Lovely Mom (awwww...I think ALL daughters think that!)
Organized (YESSSSSSSS!)
Very Angry (here we go! ALL ABOARD THE ANGER TRAIN!)
Egeer (translation: eager...to go to anger management classes, perhaps?)
Right Side -
Mi real Mom (translation: My Real Mom - apparently she didn't believe me when I told her the stork dropped her off).
Open to suggestions (as in, "I don't think we should have to have chores Mom"?)
Totally Cool (Rock ON!!!)
Have Love (akin to Got Milk?)
Exiting (she says it means exciting, but really I think she's pushing me out the door for my uncontrolled, yet unapparent to me, anger)
Really Beautiful (she's got the sucking up down to a science!)
So Cool (Being that she just discovered that I am her real mother, I would say I would have to be cool!)
Dilly Daling (translation: Dilly-dallying. How the hell did she know that I surf the web all day?)
Angry well some times (here we go AGAIN! I'm sensing a theme here, perhaps I should look into counseling?)
Your a awsome mom (I think you get what this means - I'm an awesome, anger-filled mother!)
*******************************************************************************
Now, I'm confused by this card on so many levels. Does she really think I'm angry all the time? Or, was she lost when it came to locating a word that started with an "A"? OR...could it be that she's already figured out how to take the sting out of not-so-nice words by surrounding them with compliments ("your a awsome mom")???
I confess that our house is not a quiet one. We are a vocal family. Discipline is doled out in stern, loud voices. Anger though, doesn't hover around for long. This is why I'm confused about the double appearance of the word in my daughter's card.
So, either she thinks I've an anger problem, or I'm just your run-of-the-mill, eagerly organized, beautifully cool mom who is exiting the house to dilly dally with the suggestions of my children that make me angry...well, sometimes.
Take a look -
Here's the breakdown:
Left Side -
Lovely Mom (awwww...I think ALL daughters think that!)
Organized (YESSSSSSSS!)
Very Angry (here we go! ALL ABOARD THE ANGER TRAIN!)
Egeer (translation: eager...to go to anger management classes, perhaps?)
Right Side -
Mi real Mom (translation: My Real Mom - apparently she didn't believe me when I told her the stork dropped her off).
Open to suggestions (as in, "I don't think we should have to have chores Mom"?)
Totally Cool (Rock ON!!!)
Have Love (akin to Got Milk?)
Exiting (she says it means exciting, but really I think she's pushing me out the door for my uncontrolled, yet unapparent to me, anger)
Really Beautiful (she's got the sucking up down to a science!)
So Cool (Being that she just discovered that I am her real mother, I would say I would have to be cool!)
Dilly Daling (translation: Dilly-dallying. How the hell did she know that I surf the web all day?)
Angry well some times (here we go AGAIN! I'm sensing a theme here, perhaps I should look into counseling?)
Your a awsome mom (I think you get what this means - I'm an awesome, anger-filled mother!)
*******************************************************************************
Now, I'm confused by this card on so many levels. Does she really think I'm angry all the time? Or, was she lost when it came to locating a word that started with an "A"? OR...could it be that she's already figured out how to take the sting out of not-so-nice words by surrounding them with compliments ("your a awsome mom")???
I confess that our house is not a quiet one. We are a vocal family. Discipline is doled out in stern, loud voices. Anger though, doesn't hover around for long. This is why I'm confused about the double appearance of the word in my daughter's card.
So, either she thinks I've an anger problem, or I'm just your run-of-the-mill, eagerly organized, beautifully cool mom who is exiting the house to dilly dally with the suggestions of my children that make me angry...well, sometimes.
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Anyone have a canoe I can borrow?
Even a kayak or a small fishing boat might work for me. It would be super too, if you could include the paddles as I don't have any of those. What would actually really work for me though, is one of those nifty paddle boats so that my whole family can partake in the fun.
See, where I live, some of the roads look like this picture, taken today in NH:
Nice huh? AND, just so you know the reasoning behind my request for an aquatic vessel of any shape or form, I had to leave my car at my friend’s house because her driveway got washed out in all of this rain that New England is currently experiencing. When we tried to leave my friend’s house last night, the end of her driveway was nothing but a 3 foot wide ditch. So, rather than try to jump the ditch Dukes of Hazzard style, we opted to stay put. The town had trucks out working on the roads so we figured that we would be all set to leave in the morning. NOT SO. When we woke up this morning, the ditch was an awesome FIVE feet wide, and three feet deep. We called upon my husband’s father to come and pick us up, which he did, but not before we had to cross the ditch.
Even better than being stranded without the benefit of Survivor-esque vote-off’s, is that while the husband, who is a nice and rugged 6+ feet tall, and the kids, who scale tall buildings in a single bound - can cross the five foot ditch no-problemo, the mom who totes an egregiously large purse (I tell everyone it’s a “day-bag”) laden with so much girly crap that it weighs 50 pounds – cannot. Oh, and did I fail to mention that I was wearing cowboy boots? Ones without any tread on them and made of a nice, soft brown leather that has a tendency to get ruined when wet. Do you think anyone offered to help me out of the ditch while the water ran over my feet? Nope. Happy Mother’s Day to you! Phooey.
Those boots were my favorite. Services will be held tomorrow at the Church of the Holy High Heels. Please wear your rain gear, I don’t think it’s going to stop raining anytime soon. Oh, and don’t forget your paddles – I don’t know when I’ll get my car back!
See, where I live, some of the roads look like this picture, taken today in NH:
Nice huh? AND, just so you know the reasoning behind my request for an aquatic vessel of any shape or form, I had to leave my car at my friend’s house because her driveway got washed out in all of this rain that New England is currently experiencing. When we tried to leave my friend’s house last night, the end of her driveway was nothing but a 3 foot wide ditch. So, rather than try to jump the ditch Dukes of Hazzard style, we opted to stay put. The town had trucks out working on the roads so we figured that we would be all set to leave in the morning. NOT SO. When we woke up this morning, the ditch was an awesome FIVE feet wide, and three feet deep. We called upon my husband’s father to come and pick us up, which he did, but not before we had to cross the ditch.
Even better than being stranded without the benefit of Survivor-esque vote-off’s, is that while the husband, who is a nice and rugged 6+ feet tall, and the kids, who scale tall buildings in a single bound - can cross the five foot ditch no-problemo, the mom who totes an egregiously large purse (I tell everyone it’s a “day-bag”) laden with so much girly crap that it weighs 50 pounds – cannot. Oh, and did I fail to mention that I was wearing cowboy boots? Ones without any tread on them and made of a nice, soft brown leather that has a tendency to get ruined when wet. Do you think anyone offered to help me out of the ditch while the water ran over my feet? Nope. Happy Mother’s Day to you! Phooey.
Those boots were my favorite. Services will be held tomorrow at the Church of the Holy High Heels. Please wear your rain gear, I don’t think it’s going to stop raining anytime soon. Oh, and don’t forget your paddles – I don’t know when I’ll get my car back!
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Sweden!!! Flipping Tokyo?!!!!!
So, I was nosey, errr curious about who was visiting my site. I installed a stat counter last night out of sheer vanity, just to see. Within 30 minutes, my new "friend" counter told me I had 3 visitors. 3 VISITORS, IN 30 MINUTES!!! I was ecstatic, furiously writing acceptance speeches for the various awards I was to receive. I mean, surely, 3 visitors in 30 minutes correlated to at least 144 visitors per day! While I was putting on my crown, my husband looked at my stats. He kindly informed me that while I did in fact have 3 visitors, the real truth was that the 3 visitors were: me, me, and me.
I deleted my acceptance speeches, and closed the cover to my laptop. I went to bed thinking this would be funny to blog about. When I woke up this morning, I checked my blog stats again. I had 3 more visitors last night! Before you ask, none of them were me. One was Blog Explosion, checking out my site to see if it would be accepted (it was), one was from Sweden - landing by way of a google search - and I'm VERY interested to know who that is, so if you are reading this, drop a girl a comment and tell me who you are! I then saw one from Tokyo---it was somehow from/through my new pal crazyladyinvegas. I'm not sure how that happened, being that her name pretty much tells you that she's in Vegas - I'm guessing it's because I posted on her site and they followed that link? She is a visitor though, and dammit, I love her for pumping up my stats!
Let's just say I'm excited about this whole stat counter thing. You never know what kind of visitor you are going to get, or where they're from. Yet another thing to keep you online all night!
I deleted my acceptance speeches, and closed the cover to my laptop. I went to bed thinking this would be funny to blog about. When I woke up this morning, I checked my blog stats again. I had 3 more visitors last night! Before you ask, none of them were me. One was Blog Explosion, checking out my site to see if it would be accepted (it was), one was from Sweden - landing by way of a google search - and I'm VERY interested to know who that is, so if you are reading this, drop a girl a comment and tell me who you are! I then saw one from Tokyo---it was somehow from/through my new pal crazyladyinvegas. I'm not sure how that happened, being that her name pretty much tells you that she's in Vegas - I'm guessing it's because I posted on her site and they followed that link? She is a visitor though, and dammit, I love her for pumping up my stats!
Let's just say I'm excited about this whole stat counter thing. You never know what kind of visitor you are going to get, or where they're from. Yet another thing to keep you online all night!
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
Sometimes, they make you forget that they just crapped on your shoe...
Hoochie Puppy waiting for a date....
Secret Agent Dog Hailey wearing the latest of her disguises. She's hot on the trail of some rogue bees...
My name is Bella. I'm 15 weeks old. I like long walks on the beach, licking my own butt, and chewing the hell out of anything that resembles wood or insect. I'm looking for some companionship and loyalty for life. Only dogs that have been ungendered will be considered for meeting - serious requests only and must bring mini-bones.
Monday, May 08, 2006
Top 10 things to think about BEFORE getting a puppy...
10. "Getting a puppy might take your mind off having that additional child" (In case you were wondering, this was my reasoning. I'm convinced I need therapy). The cold hard reality is that it IS JUST LIKE HAVING ANOTHER CHILD. One that poops E-V-E-R-Y-W-H-E-R-E and pees indiscriminately. See that nice rug? Yeah, there's dog pee all over that.
9. Sleep? Fuggedahboudit. You are now the proud owner of a dog that will whine incessantly until it falls asleep, only to wake up about 4 hours later to take it outside to do it's business. It's like breastfeeding all over again, without the benefit of bonding.
8. Want the dog to be yours all yours? Get one the exact opposite sex that you are. Girl dogs love their male homo sapiens, in fact, they make out with them constantly (once I can catch my hubby on the digital doing this, I will post proof).
7. If you already have a dog in the house, I urge you to be 100% sure you want to bring another pup into the mix. Otherwise, be prepared for endless yapping, biting, nipping and horseplay between the new "siblings". Oh yeah, and it's LOUD yapping too, with lots of growling on the side.
6. To accompany #7, I am forced to introduce you to the world of dog humping. No, it's not something you just see on television. It happens. At first, my older dog Hailey would occasionally do it to my husband, if she hadn't seen him in while. Since the introduction of the new puppy, it happens A LOT now. I'm told it's a dominance thing. I think not. I am convinced that the increase in frequency of her hump-fests have little to do with dominance. I think that she's playing with chew toys on the other side of the fence, if you know what I mean. I don't think Hailey's gay, I think she's bi-curious. In the dog world, the other side of the fence is the human race - and Hailey wants her some of that. Basically, I'm alerting you to this fact should you decide to bring a puppy into a house that is otherwise occupied by another dog filled with sexual angst. It's something to think about, no?
5. Did I mention the sheer amount of paper towels you will need? Buy stock in Bounty, or some other super absorbent brand. That way, when it's 4 in the morning and your bare feet just slid across the floor on some cold pee, you have enough paper towels on hand so you can easily reach some to clean up the mess (I have yet to step in poo; when that happens, I will edit this post).
4. Piss and Poo. Lots of it. 'Nuff said there.
3. To go along with the overabundance of pee & poo items I have, I just want you to be prepared for the smell. You think that you can handle picking up crap that crawled out of a dog's bum, because, hey, you wiped your kids' bums for YEEEAARS and never dry-heaved once. This is a whole 'nother party, with all different smells. Smells that will overpower, overwhelm and put a pasture full of cow turd to shame. Don't say I didn't warn you on this.
2. More that will make you yak? Puppies eat anything they can put their little sharp-toothed mouths on. This includes ants (which, I will admit, is quite comical to watch as the ants are sometimes smarter - if you can imagine - than the puppy), worms, and the coup de grace - fricken HUGE beetles. I thought I'd seen the worst when I watched Bella run away from me with a worm dangling from her little snout, but nope. Today she tackled a beetle as big as her nose, and chewed it long enough for me to run into town and back (I didn't really run into town, I'm just using that to show you time frame). Apparently, beetles are chewy.
Oh yeah, and puppies have a penchant for shoes, and also socks that are still on your feet. Puppy teeth hurt. I told you in advance, it's your fault if you forget this.
1. This is the one that turned my stomach for days. It may or may not happen to you. I put it out here for your review and consideration...just in case. As I said in #2, puppies eat everything - that does include hair. To provide you with a lesson in digestion, here's somewhat of an algebraic equation:
puppies + swallowed hair = puppy chasing it's own ass around because it has a hair hanging out of it's butthole
This also equals you pulling out the offending hair from said butthole. This equation holds true for other lengthy materials that your puppy might ingest such as string and shoelaces. While the latter hasn't occurred in my house yet, I threw it out there to educate the public on the dangers. Because really, who wants to pull something out of a dogs bum anyway?
9. Sleep? Fuggedahboudit. You are now the proud owner of a dog that will whine incessantly until it falls asleep, only to wake up about 4 hours later to take it outside to do it's business. It's like breastfeeding all over again, without the benefit of bonding.
8. Want the dog to be yours all yours? Get one the exact opposite sex that you are. Girl dogs love their male homo sapiens, in fact, they make out with them constantly (once I can catch my hubby on the digital doing this, I will post proof).
7. If you already have a dog in the house, I urge you to be 100% sure you want to bring another pup into the mix. Otherwise, be prepared for endless yapping, biting, nipping and horseplay between the new "siblings". Oh yeah, and it's LOUD yapping too, with lots of growling on the side.
6. To accompany #7, I am forced to introduce you to the world of dog humping. No, it's not something you just see on television. It happens. At first, my older dog Hailey would occasionally do it to my husband, if she hadn't seen him in while. Since the introduction of the new puppy, it happens A LOT now. I'm told it's a dominance thing. I think not. I am convinced that the increase in frequency of her hump-fests have little to do with dominance. I think that she's playing with chew toys on the other side of the fence, if you know what I mean. I don't think Hailey's gay, I think she's bi-curious. In the dog world, the other side of the fence is the human race - and Hailey wants her some of that. Basically, I'm alerting you to this fact should you decide to bring a puppy into a house that is otherwise occupied by another dog filled with sexual angst. It's something to think about, no?
5. Did I mention the sheer amount of paper towels you will need? Buy stock in Bounty, or some other super absorbent brand. That way, when it's 4 in the morning and your bare feet just slid across the floor on some cold pee, you have enough paper towels on hand so you can easily reach some to clean up the mess (I have yet to step in poo; when that happens, I will edit this post).
4. Piss and Poo. Lots of it. 'Nuff said there.
3. To go along with the overabundance of pee & poo items I have, I just want you to be prepared for the smell. You think that you can handle picking up crap that crawled out of a dog's bum, because, hey, you wiped your kids' bums for YEEEAARS and never dry-heaved once. This is a whole 'nother party, with all different smells. Smells that will overpower, overwhelm and put a pasture full of cow turd to shame. Don't say I didn't warn you on this.
2. More that will make you yak? Puppies eat anything they can put their little sharp-toothed mouths on. This includes ants (which, I will admit, is quite comical to watch as the ants are sometimes smarter - if you can imagine - than the puppy), worms, and the coup de grace - fricken HUGE beetles. I thought I'd seen the worst when I watched Bella run away from me with a worm dangling from her little snout, but nope. Today she tackled a beetle as big as her nose, and chewed it long enough for me to run into town and back (I didn't really run into town, I'm just using that to show you time frame). Apparently, beetles are chewy.
Oh yeah, and puppies have a penchant for shoes, and also socks that are still on your feet. Puppy teeth hurt. I told you in advance, it's your fault if you forget this.
1. This is the one that turned my stomach for days. It may or may not happen to you. I put it out here for your review and consideration...just in case. As I said in #2, puppies eat everything - that does include hair. To provide you with a lesson in digestion, here's somewhat of an algebraic equation:
puppies + swallowed hair = puppy chasing it's own ass around because it has a hair hanging out of it's butthole
This also equals you pulling out the offending hair from said butthole. This equation holds true for other lengthy materials that your puppy might ingest such as string and shoelaces. While the latter hasn't occurred in my house yet, I threw it out there to educate the public on the dangers. Because really, who wants to pull something out of a dogs bum anyway?
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
So, this is why I haven't been here...
This little furball was given to me for my birthday (errr...my birthday for the next 5 years to be exact) by my husband. She is supposed to keep me occupied while my kids are at school, thereby further justifying my existance as a SAHM. Our other furbaby, Hailey, has taken on the role of big sister/doggy mama and loves to chew on our new little Bella as much as possible (NO, she doesn't hurt her!!!). And just so you know, my life is now completely chaotic and filled with numerous paper towel mop-ups (puppy training is a pisser) and chasing a schizophrenic pup with a sock/shoe/underwear/stuffed animal in her mouth. Sorry for the short AND delayed post, but I wanted to let everyone know that this is why I haven't been here in a while :)
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Mamma needs to get her eyebrows done...
because she looks like this -
and she's scaring her entire family away!!!
and she's scaring her entire family away!!!
Monday, March 27, 2006
I've been tagged!!!
Thanks to Stephanie for tagging me for the very first time :) I could go off on a song-related tangent here, but I won't. Here goes:
Accent - Does New England have it's own accent??? I'm in NH, so the accents can vary. NO, I do not say things like "cah" for car, or "bah" for bar. I'm actually a big fan of the R. I guess I don't fit in well in NH.
Booze of choice - Beer. I know, I'm more worldly than you thought!
Chore I hate - Cleaning pee (just posted about it)
Dog or Cat - One dog - Hailey. She's a lovey and she REALLY loves my hubby.
Essential electronics - Laptop with internet. Treadmill. - good ones from Stephanie - I'm going to take those and add my iPod and Treo phone...can't live without them!
Favorite perfume(s)/cologne(s) - Modern by Banana Republis
Gold or Silver? - silver, but my wedding rings are gold
Hometown - Born in Columbus, Montana; pretty much raised in NH
Insomnia? - Nope. More prone to cataplexy attacks.
Job Title - SAHM works for now...I'll add more to the title as time goes on :)
Kids? - Pooh and Bean (son and daughter)
Living Arrangement - 3 bdrm. colonial that we can't seem to sell
Most admired trait - I have a knack for saying the wrong thing...to EVERYONE.
Number of Sexual Partners - Currently or ever? (heh, I like the mystery this answer implies)
Overnight Hospital Stays - 3 - one for each kid, and an extra one when I thought I was in back labor at 6 months (I wasn't)
Phobia - 1) losing my children 2) being alone
Quote - I'm not famous enough to have one of these
Religion - Christian
Siblings - 1 brother; 2 SIL's that I adore
Time I wake up - when the bus shows up (inevitable)
Unusual talent/skill - I can burn water
Vegetable I refuse to eat - I have yet to meet a veggie I don't like.
Worst habit - smoking. I know, I KNOW!
X-rays - have I had some? Yep.
Yummy foods I make - does boxed mac-n-cheese count?
Zodiac sign - Aries
Remember, if you don't like my answers...just blog your own.
Tagees of choice: I don't really have anyone to tag just yet. C'mon people...just do it yourselves! Oh...and let me know about it!
Accent - Does New England have it's own accent??? I'm in NH, so the accents can vary. NO, I do not say things like "cah" for car, or "bah" for bar. I'm actually a big fan of the R. I guess I don't fit in well in NH.
Booze of choice - Beer. I know, I'm more worldly than you thought!
Chore I hate - Cleaning pee (just posted about it)
Dog or Cat - One dog - Hailey. She's a lovey and she REALLY loves my hubby.
Essential electronics - Laptop with internet. Treadmill. - good ones from Stephanie - I'm going to take those and add my iPod and Treo phone...can't live without them!
Favorite perfume(s)/cologne(s) - Modern by Banana Republis
Gold or Silver? - silver, but my wedding rings are gold
Hometown - Born in Columbus, Montana; pretty much raised in NH
Insomnia? - Nope. More prone to cataplexy attacks.
Job Title - SAHM works for now...I'll add more to the title as time goes on :)
Kids? - Pooh and Bean (son and daughter)
Living Arrangement - 3 bdrm. colonial that we can't seem to sell
Most admired trait - I have a knack for saying the wrong thing...to EVERYONE.
Number of Sexual Partners - Currently or ever? (heh, I like the mystery this answer implies)
Overnight Hospital Stays - 3 - one for each kid, and an extra one when I thought I was in back labor at 6 months (I wasn't)
Phobia - 1) losing my children 2) being alone
Quote - I'm not famous enough to have one of these
Religion - Christian
Siblings - 1 brother; 2 SIL's that I adore
Time I wake up - when the bus shows up (inevitable)
Unusual talent/skill - I can burn water
Vegetable I refuse to eat - I have yet to meet a veggie I don't like.
Worst habit - smoking. I know, I KNOW!
X-rays - have I had some? Yep.
Yummy foods I make - does boxed mac-n-cheese count?
Zodiac sign - Aries
Remember, if you don't like my answers...just blog your own.
Tagees of choice: I don't really have anyone to tag just yet. C'mon people...just do it yourselves! Oh...and let me know about it!
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
To the men in my house...
Dear Pissers:
Today, while cleaning the home that you occupy (with me), I had the immeasurably pleasurable task of cleaning up your pee.
While I enjoy my newfound job as the "Chief Cook & Bottlewasher/Chauffer/Laundry Do-er", I do NOT, repeat, DO NOT have a fondness for scrubbing your pee from every surface of every toilet in this house. I feel there are some things you need to be made aware of:
1 - As a male, you have a built-in, God-installed pee-pointer. This means, you direct your pointer where the pee needs to go. Try aiming it, and 9 times out of 10, it will go where it is supposed to.
2 - If for some reason, you feel the need to "shake" your pointer to remove excess pee, DON'T. I do not care to find your droplets on my wall, on the floor, or any other location in the bathroom other than inside the BOWL of the toilet. It's called toilet paper - use some.
3 - Do not dance, pretend you are a member of House of Pain (a la Jump Around) practice your jumpshot, or otherwise MOVE at all while peeing. Again, seeing your pee on my walls is not something that makes me smile.
4 - One of the inherent differences between women and men happens to be the "sit vs. stand" factor. In case you were unaware, you stand, I sit. As such, I do not want to sit on the rim of the toilet, I want to use the part of it that I'm meant to - the seat! The next time you leave the seat up for me, I promise you, I will place your head in the bowl, and lovingly apply the most violent swirley known to mankind.
5 - To expand upon #4, also be aware that because you stand, you should lift up the seat so as to widen the circle you point your pipper to. When you choose not to lift said seat, the odds of you pissing on my seat increase from 0 to 100% in no time at all. With this in mind, let me introduce a sub-section of instructions for you to follow:
a) lift seat
b) commence piss disbursement
c) put seat back into position you found it
d) WASH YOUR FLIPPING HANDS! (Another irritant I will discuss with you later)
6 - At this time, I also feel the need to direct your attention to the fact that I realize you are all capable of performing #2 on your own (NOT rule #2, the actual #2, wherein you smell up the house). I realize that because you are capable of this, I KNOW you are also knowledgeable enough to replace a roll of toilet paper - CORRECTLY. I am not picky about whether or not the roll faces upward or downward, just as long as you actually place a roll where it's supposed to go. There is nothing worse than to be a woman rushing around, finding those few extra seconds to pee, only to look over and see that there is not even a smidge of TP to be used. While you may find it funny to picture your mother/wife shuffling to the closet to locate an MIA roll of TP with her pants around her ankles, I assure you, it is anyting but (no pun intended).
Lastly, in the interest of gender equality, I do hereby agree to pick up the teeny-tiny pieces of feminine hygiene product wrappers that inadvertantly miss the wastebasket. I also agree to put away the miscellaneous boxes of the above mentioned products so as not to embarass you when you are meeting with other groups of unreformed pissers in this house.
Oh, and one more thing: failure to comply with my simple requests will result in the complete nullification of what I said in the previous paragraph AS WELL AS the horrifying chance that I will no longer feel the need to wash your undergarments. Oh sure, I'll pick them up from your floor, or where ever else you leave them, and I'll place them near the washer - just to give you the sense I'm doing you a favor. BUT, when you are not looking, I will don my yellow plastic cleaning gloves, carefully fold your underroos, and place them back into your dressers, dirty as they are. You may just end up being the smelly kid at school/work after all. Carefully consider your options here...
Thank you for what I assume will be your prompt adherence to these guidelines.
Love,
Mama
Today, while cleaning the home that you occupy (with me), I had the immeasurably pleasurable task of cleaning up your pee.
While I enjoy my newfound job as the "Chief Cook & Bottlewasher/Chauffer/Laundry Do-er", I do NOT, repeat, DO NOT have a fondness for scrubbing your pee from every surface of every toilet in this house. I feel there are some things you need to be made aware of:
1 - As a male, you have a built-in, God-installed pee-pointer. This means, you direct your pointer where the pee needs to go. Try aiming it, and 9 times out of 10, it will go where it is supposed to.
2 - If for some reason, you feel the need to "shake" your pointer to remove excess pee, DON'T. I do not care to find your droplets on my wall, on the floor, or any other location in the bathroom other than inside the BOWL of the toilet. It's called toilet paper - use some.
3 - Do not dance, pretend you are a member of House of Pain (a la Jump Around) practice your jumpshot, or otherwise MOVE at all while peeing. Again, seeing your pee on my walls is not something that makes me smile.
4 - One of the inherent differences between women and men happens to be the "sit vs. stand" factor. In case you were unaware, you stand, I sit. As such, I do not want to sit on the rim of the toilet, I want to use the part of it that I'm meant to - the seat! The next time you leave the seat up for me, I promise you, I will place your head in the bowl, and lovingly apply the most violent swirley known to mankind.
5 - To expand upon #4, also be aware that because you stand, you should lift up the seat so as to widen the circle you point your pipper to. When you choose not to lift said seat, the odds of you pissing on my seat increase from 0 to 100% in no time at all. With this in mind, let me introduce a sub-section of instructions for you to follow:
a) lift seat
b) commence piss disbursement
c) put seat back into position you found it
d) WASH YOUR FLIPPING HANDS! (Another irritant I will discuss with you later)
6 - At this time, I also feel the need to direct your attention to the fact that I realize you are all capable of performing #2 on your own (NOT rule #2, the actual #2, wherein you smell up the house). I realize that because you are capable of this, I KNOW you are also knowledgeable enough to replace a roll of toilet paper - CORRECTLY. I am not picky about whether or not the roll faces upward or downward, just as long as you actually place a roll where it's supposed to go. There is nothing worse than to be a woman rushing around, finding those few extra seconds to pee, only to look over and see that there is not even a smidge of TP to be used. While you may find it funny to picture your mother/wife shuffling to the closet to locate an MIA roll of TP with her pants around her ankles, I assure you, it is anyting but (no pun intended).
Lastly, in the interest of gender equality, I do hereby agree to pick up the teeny-tiny pieces of feminine hygiene product wrappers that inadvertantly miss the wastebasket. I also agree to put away the miscellaneous boxes of the above mentioned products so as not to embarass you when you are meeting with other groups of unreformed pissers in this house.
Oh, and one more thing: failure to comply with my simple requests will result in the complete nullification of what I said in the previous paragraph AS WELL AS the horrifying chance that I will no longer feel the need to wash your undergarments. Oh sure, I'll pick them up from your floor, or where ever else you leave them, and I'll place them near the washer - just to give you the sense I'm doing you a favor. BUT, when you are not looking, I will don my yellow plastic cleaning gloves, carefully fold your underroos, and place them back into your dressers, dirty as they are. You may just end up being the smelly kid at school/work after all. Carefully consider your options here...
Thank you for what I assume will be your prompt adherence to these guidelines.
Love,
Mama
Sunday, March 19, 2006
"F**ker"
A typical rite of passage into adulthood is often the ability to swear/curse without repercussion. My daughter has skipped puberty and has lauched herself directly into adulthood at the tender age of 7.
Apparently, she was trying to say two different words while talking on the bus, and "Fucker" came out. Older brother got wind of the potential punishment factor, and ran straight off the bus to his father to inform him that his sister needed to be punished for skipping puberty and becoming an adult. Oh yeah, and for saying the "F-word with 'er' on the end of it". No, my son did not repeat the forbidden utterance, he worded it carefully so he could avoid growing up and having to obtain employment. His sister, on the other hand, came clean (while sobbing):
"I was on the bus today and I was talking to so-and-so and I was trying to tell them something and I don't know what happened but I said FUCKER and T (older brother) and his friend heard me and they said they were going to tell on me and I'm so sorry mommy I didn't mean to say FUCKER, it just came out of my mouth. I wasn't trying to say FUCKER mom, I really wasn't, I promise. Please don't be mad that I said that word mom, that word FUCKER!"
In case you were counting (as I was while hearing this), she did, in fact, drop the F-bomb with 'er' on the end of it at least four times in that breathless sob-filled paragraph. Half of me is debating on whether or not she meant to say it simply because she was sobbing while recounting her brush with adulthood. The other half is screaming, "She's pulling a fast one! She said the dreaded word FOUR FLIPPING TIMES while telling you about it! She looooooves that she can say it now and KNOWS that she's not getting into trouble!"
Fortunately for her, I did not feel compelled, what with her sudden adult-like actions, to boot her from the house for her wretchedness. O - no. I had to keep from laughing and/or smiling and put on my best stern-mama face and tell her under no circumstances, even in the course of repeating that story, should she use that word ever again.
No, mama isn't mad. Mama is sitting her wondering how many times she calls people that name while in earshot of her kids. This HAS to be my fault. Damn. I was so looking forward to that Mother-of-the-Year award.
Apparently, she was trying to say two different words while talking on the bus, and "Fucker" came out. Older brother got wind of the potential punishment factor, and ran straight off the bus to his father to inform him that his sister needed to be punished for skipping puberty and becoming an adult. Oh yeah, and for saying the "F-word with 'er' on the end of it". No, my son did not repeat the forbidden utterance, he worded it carefully so he could avoid growing up and having to obtain employment. His sister, on the other hand, came clean (while sobbing):
"I was on the bus today and I was talking to so-and-so and I was trying to tell them something and I don't know what happened but I said FUCKER and T (older brother) and his friend heard me and they said they were going to tell on me and I'm so sorry mommy I didn't mean to say FUCKER, it just came out of my mouth. I wasn't trying to say FUCKER mom, I really wasn't, I promise. Please don't be mad that I said that word mom, that word FUCKER!"
In case you were counting (as I was while hearing this), she did, in fact, drop the F-bomb with 'er' on the end of it at least four times in that breathless sob-filled paragraph. Half of me is debating on whether or not she meant to say it simply because she was sobbing while recounting her brush with adulthood. The other half is screaming, "She's pulling a fast one! She said the dreaded word FOUR FLIPPING TIMES while telling you about it! She looooooves that she can say it now and KNOWS that she's not getting into trouble!"
Fortunately for her, I did not feel compelled, what with her sudden adult-like actions, to boot her from the house for her wretchedness. O - no. I had to keep from laughing and/or smiling and put on my best stern-mama face and tell her under no circumstances, even in the course of repeating that story, should she use that word ever again.
No, mama isn't mad. Mama is sitting her wondering how many times she calls people that name while in earshot of her kids. This HAS to be my fault. Damn. I was so looking forward to that Mother-of-the-Year award.
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