Friday, February 25, 2011

Winkies, Pinkies and Ding Dongs

Why do parents insist on naming their child's man bits things that are bound to scar them for life?

I know grown men who still blush at the word "penis" and balk at the word "vagina."

I blame the baby boomers.

THEIR parents just didn't talk about body parts. Such things weren't discussed but baby Boomers? They were Bound and determined to be more open.


So "willy" and "johnson" and "peepee" and "dinky" were so christened.

My mother followed this crooked path as well. I was in my twenties before I could pronounce the name of the female and male sex organs without dissolving into ugly fits of girlish laughter.

But I still can't look anyone named "Lucy" straight in the eye.


Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Cherry-poppin' McD's

Tonight I decided to partake in a little fast food "food." since nutritional value was not a concern my first instinct was for a nice frothy, simple milkshake from McDonald's.
I wanted that sweet, cold, sinful beverage to carry me through the remainder of the night as I catered to the every whim and demand of my increasingly violent 11 month old. (He totally gave Daddy a fatlip yesterday. Awwwwwesome!).
But when the man/woman/Overly-made-up worker handed me a plastic cup - I was a little taken back.
And then I spied it.
A cherry.
On my vanilla milkshake.
Infiltrating it.
Oozing into it.
So I steered with one hand, pulled over into a space and flicked the offensive and intrusive semi-fruit into the parking lot.
I was not pleased and was tempted to go back and ask them for another, minus the fruufruu.
Instead I took a massive gulp, closed my eyes - and gagged. The shake tasted like it was made with refrozen ice cream and vomit.
So I flipped the rest of the "treat" out the window.
Nah. Not really.
But I shoulda!!!!